"You're serious?" He pretty much spat out, turning around and I could clearly see his eyes were not friendly, at all. We were surrounded though, so we both had to behave, especially him. He was all dressed up, all fancy in that stupidly expensive suit which could probably feed a whole village in Africa. The black fabric felt rich and it almost made me vomit because the word rich had been destroyed for me, because of him. This thing, it was almost hard to call it a him, to call it a person because it had no more value than any other animal. It was worse than a rat, than an ant than a fucking germ and I wished him dead so bad but then again, I was married to him.

It wasn't that I'd always hated him, his ugly, crocked smile was once pretty to me and the smell of his money would make my fingers tingle, he was rich, handsome and funny. He had a bad temper but so did I. He had a tendency to be rough even when I didn't want to and could slam my head against the wall because he couldn't find the remote-control and he could get so furious over the smallest things and blame me for it. When I'm now weighing the pros and cons against each other I couldn't understand why I stayed with him. Oh, no I'm lying because I can. It was the money.

So here I am, in a fancy suit me too, my hair newly washed, my neck and wrists drenched in a perfume probably no one would recognize, only if I put out the bottle and showed the brand people could awe at how rich my husband was, my perfectionist to a husband. He forced me into the clothes this morning, threatening me he would kick me out if I didn't dress properly. I was his thing, a pet he got and when a pet doesn't do what it's told you have to argue with it, that's how it's done right? No? You just hit it and tell it "BAD DOG". Sorry, I forgot.

So as the lights in the huge hall shine white while everything was gold and brown it cast a yellow light on him and made him look perfect, except he was not smiling, at all anymore. Not to me at least, his mouth might be turned upwards but his eyes told me everything. Bad dog.

So he grabbed my chin, his nails digging into my skin as he leaned forward, his lips next to my ear and I guessed it probably looked romantic from far away.

"Is it that fucking hard for you to smile?" His hard tone made my body react on instinct, shiver, look down and fear what was coming next.

"This is important for me so don't make me look bad" he released my chin, turned to look me in the eyes and I stayed silent as the grave not showing any expressions because what was I supposed to do? Stare back? Push him? Apologize?

I put on a quick smile, fake as probably 80% of the rest in the room and excused myself from the pairing that my husband was talking to and my feet gladly led me to the restroom. I went into one of the bathrooms since this was luxurious as shit you needed your own. I sat down , buried my face in my hands. Fuck this.

He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. His hair moved with the wind, the color of night sky dancing for me and my body was aching for him to turn around. He was just standing there, plainly in a leather jacket, jeans and some random shoes. He held a helmet under his arm and I was guessing it was his bike a few meters beside him, muttering in a low sound. I had just gone out to get some air and was met with something beautiful. He turned around and as fast as I saw his face I muttered the words "I want him."

And so I got him. We had been at it all night, in his apartment, it was messy and drawers were broken, the walls dark and it was not near the word luxurious but to me it was art. It was special and pretty and I loved it. I loved the blue sofa on the floor next to the window which just showed the busy street of another working day. The body beside me, his warm body, his slightly tanned skin, the long tattoo on his back which I figured was the most calming thing in the world for me to trace with my finger-tips. His dark hair, soft as silk and framing his face perfect. Because I'm not even gonna describe it, it was beyond perfection and I was hooked like no other.

The morning light pressed through the curtains and light hit his back and my eyes and I found myself trapped in his eyes when they met mine, I was so sick, so sick of obsession and I would do anything to keep him. I wanted him all for myself.

He was nice and caring, he was a bit rough but if I ever got scared he backed away instantly because he was nice and caring. He cared for me and I loved him. Yes, I could admit I did, loved him the second I fell for him and fell in love with him and fell to his messy bed with him. It was all love and I was so happy.

When we woke up for real, he made his coffee and I went around looking through his little hideout the mood was still calm and happy. If I hadn't been so love-struck I would be laughing at the cheesiness. I didn't care about the broken dining table, the stains on the floor, the gun in his pocked or the phone calling all the time.

He was perfect and I was happy so fuck you.

I didn't expect reality to hit me so fast, to slap me in the face, kick me in the stomach and literally spit on me. My husband back in our mansion was reality. He was real and he was dead serious and mad as never before and I was dead. So I ran, he haunted me, ran after me and caught me. Where could I go? I was locked in my own house with the man I was supposed to love and live a happy life with. Who cared if I was actually happy or not? As long as it looked good on the outside no one cared about the scars, burn marks or fallen hearts and lifeless eyes on the rich people. I mean they had money so they had to be happy in some way? Right.

Again locked in my house but now one room in it, the basement I was stuck in, feeling my feet hit something unknown as I walked around in the dark. I had barely been there once but I wasn't scared. My husband was too much of a pussy to have anything dangerous in our house. Our. It was a disgusting word when he was in my thoughts, it was disturbing and I didn't want any part of his our. I waned to be no part of it, I could claw it away, claw myself away from our shared things and back to my happy dream.

So I had cheated, with happiness and I was blamed for it.

I heard the shooting, the sound of guns familiar from movies I've seen and I stood up as the second bullet was fired upstairs. There were sounds of furniture moving and feet steps against the floor that was my ceiling. Thank god he found me. My dream. Mine.

"They're gonna be here in any second." He said, his voice calm and his face mirroring it. I smiled just looking at him, I was bright as the sun and even my scarred body was shining. I limped towards him and braced my arms around him, his warm body and his smell that made me go to heaven. It was smoke, roses, coffee, danger and love and maybe a bit of possession. But something that I loved could gladly obsess over me. It just fed my ego a bit.

So we were together now, on his motorcycle, riding towards the sunset and the direction of his house, his place that I wished was mine too. Our place. It sounded so pretty and perfect. The people around us, not very much of them since it was getting late, were nothing but shadows for me, people to make my knight in shining armor to shine even brighter. Comparing people around me made him look like a god.

I wanted nothing more but to have him in the closest way but they were already here. It was already here, the end and the ones who would end it. I didn't even know, I didn't even care and even if we got caught just in front of the finish line it was okay. Because he was here with me. He was smiling too, I hope it was mirroring mine because I felt so happy and so pleased with everything.

There was fire everywhere, the walls were getting ripped down, shot down and holes were appearing everywhere. The light from the sun falling outside could get through the holes, putting a fascinating picture over us. But the worst thing was the sounds. The piercing sound of bullets hitting metal.

But it wasn't that bad, really. Since he was here after all. I felt safe in his arms, as the world exploded around us I felt save and at peace and I couldn't help to smile. A small smile spread on my lips as my hands grabbed his shirt harder. I was so happy I almost wanted to laugh. He was so perfect, holding me secure, protecting me even though we both knew we would both fall, even though we knew we would both die. And it was quiet. In our own little world nothing could touch us. It was him and me and nothing else. I didn't care that everything came crashing down, I didn't care that my beloved couched was nothing but pieces of wood, feathers and fabric flying in the air in slow-motion, I didn't care that my shirt was soaked with red that warned us of death, neither did I care he was drowned in it too.

Because I had him, all to myself.

At last.

Mine.

Only mine.