Angel

Angel LXIII

                ANGEL

I can feel it. The old me, the one who didn't feel anything, who had a mask of boredom and passiveness on her face.

It's back. Dark Angel is back.

Even after last night, I feel regenerated.

Between moans, pulls of hair, hands gripping and scratching on each other's skin, sweat wetting our bodies, screams of pleasure, and groans of frustration... I feel rejuvenated.

I don't feel tired... not at all. I feel ready for war.

We looked like animals though, I lost count of how many times I came, I just know that when Lukas is angry... he is angry. That's what I call fucking stamina.

Yesterday, everything had crumbled when I saw that photo of my dad and I on his birthday.

He had bought a small cheap camera and had wanted to fill it with memories. I didn't even remember that photo, and sobbed harder when, with my anger, I crumbled the paper.

I wish I could have our photos back, but I lost that camera.

I cried for a couple of minutes, sobbed, and shook, Lukas with me, hugging and comforting me. But then it snapped.

Dimitri is playing mind games like years ago, but I'm stronger. I won't fall for it, and throw away everything I've fought for. I'm not the same little girl he knows me by.

I switched like a damn lamp and everything around me was red.

The only thing I'm allowed to feel in this matter is pure rage like it should be. And fuck, when Lukas gave that vile, cruel smile that made my panties twist, I had to jump above him.

We're fucked up, but are we really to blame? We didn't ask for any darkness that crept on us...others made it happen, and now we're embracing it more than ever to put an end to this.

If we can't snap out of it at least we have each other's back, that's all that matters.

His tall, toned figure leaves the bathroom, a single white towel wrapped around his waist, and my eyes catch my marks in his skin.

My nail scars dragged down his back, my teeth marked on his shoulders, that I used to muffle my screams at long hours of the night.

It was ruthless, hot and cold at the same time, rough. Just like us.

Lukas smirks when he catches me eyeing him, and crawls on top of me, his knees at each side of my naked body.

We didn't sleep.

"Tired?" He mumbles, pecking my lips, I shake my head. He pecks them again. "Hungry?"

"Maybe," I smirk, my voice raspy from the pleasurable hours.

"Yeah?" Lukas muses, and I lock my legs around him, after taking his towel off. His eyes roam my bruised skin, my legs and hips with bruises where he gripped, my neck, breasts, and inner thighs with his bites and hickeys.

I'm full of him.

His fingers brushed the side of my neck where his hand had wrapped tightly, having left me gasping and crying out his name. Then he grabs my wrists, where red marks form from his belt being tightly clasped around it.

We turned his bedroom a mess.

The chairs next to the French doors are now on the floor, due to him kicking while he pinned me to those same doors.

Just thinking about everything we did makes me hot.

"Does it hurt?" He whispers, his thumb brushing my wrists making me sigh. "No." I whisper.