Love song
London, England 1882
My mouth turns down into an angry scowl as a high-pitched scream of pleasure reaches my sensitive ears. I hate how he can just snap his fingers and she follows him like a lost little kitten. Purring and keening, and twining herself around him.
It makes me want to heave! My dark little flower, wanting him, pleasing him. I thought she was mine, I thought she would always be mine.
I groan softly, a moan of pain and anguish. I grit my teeth and place my hands over my ears in an effort to block out the sound of their breathless growls.
Don't I give her everything she could have wished for? Pretty trinkets, beautiful dresses, with beautiful girls in them! Even a sweet little child or two. But it wasn't enough, it was never enough.
She is never going to be mine. This dark little bird, as fickle as the wind, she dances too love's tune, twisting and twining. Purring and laughing. This woman, this goddess can never be tamed.
She is not mine, not yet at least. Some day she will be. Some day we will dance to love's song. One day she will be mine, and only mine.
