Slice.
Red stained the perfect white of her forearm.
Slice.
The pain was always a shock, then the blissful aching she craved set in.
Slice.
A flash of steel- sharp, deadly, the color of his eyes.
Him. Even in escape, he still came to her mind.
Slice.
Again, he'd hurt her. Smashed a fraction of her soul again, the splinter that could still feel, still love.
Slice.
Sweet as cyanide, he'd come slithering back to salve her wounds and whisper toxic nothings.
Slice.
He didn't get the concept of pain. Never would. It built to a breaking point within her, a climax more painful than pleasurable.
Slice.
So she fled to her release, a bubble of pain that floated her high above her troubles. It throbbed as she came back down, a constant reminder of the place she could go and never be reached.
Slice.
And so she knew she was addicted. To the sex, to the pain, to him. It wormed its way into her brain, her soul and ate her from the inside out.
Slice.
But she wouldn't let go. It was part of her now, a part she could no more relinquish than carve out her own heart. And so she embraced it, and returned once again to her escape.
Slice. Slice. Slice.
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I, Uber-l33t Rabid Ninja Squirrel, solemnly swear to review all the fics I read,
regardless of the number of reviews, its age, or anything else.
I have joined the Review Revolution.
Have you????