*Cassandra's POV*
Between the two of us, discord still reigned.
After the scene I had seen that day at his place, I hadn't talked to him but, against my better judgment, I noticed he had been following me for days. Every step I took, every inch of air I inhaled; he was there. He followed me to the beach, to the store, to the gym: pretty much everywhere one can think of.
I did not have proof but, sometimes, when I came home at night, I could feel someone approaching me: I could feel their breath, the sound of their shoes, their car keys ticking... yet, every time I turned around, no one seemed to be there. I saw shadows everywhere: I even came to think that someone was watching me while I was in the house. I felt persecuted. And threatened, to say the least.
Paranoia started to kick in. There was so much going on in my head at the moment, yet I was not brave enough to seek help for fear of not being able to trust anyone. Besides, how could I have told all this? To make someone believe my version of the story, I had to tell them what I had seen, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't confess it. Not yet.
Also, I realized I did not feel empathy for the man he was hiding that day. I figured that my reaction had been dictated by a feeling of extreme selfishness: I did not care about the man, nor his loved ones, but myself.
I was scared of being hurt by him, that's all. In addition to that, I was petrified because the standardized idea I had made of him did not correspond with the reality of things.It was not better or worse- just different. Just something I had to get used to.
For several days now I had started carrying a small dagger with me everywhere. It made me feel safer; or else I was just aroused by the idea of being able to harm someone.
Perhaps this was a mere attempt to justify this hidden perversion of mine.
I grabbed the knife in my own hands and started sliding my fingers down the blade.
I had cut myself. However, the action itself seemed surprisingly fascinating to me: I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins every time the cold blade touched my body.And yet I couldn't seem to stop torturing my body so pleasantly.
Did I really have that darkness in me?
******
*Rafe's POV*
We live in a world where we are either watched or are the ones who watch, with the latter being a new hobby of mine.
I had been observing Cassandra for over a week now. I enjoyed following her, knowing who talked to her and analyzing her every move. Since she probably figured -or at least imagined- my little secret, she had given me the perfect excuse to keep an eye on her.
Once I even watched her showering. I didn't see much as I was spying on her from the curtains in her bathroom.
Drops of water were delicately tracing her body and I couldn't help but stare.Despite the voyeuristic appeal of the scene, she made me feel like I had never felt before; and for a moment I embraced a more compassionate and considerate version of myself.
In the meantime, I had killed another man. But I had to teach him a lesson after all.
Killing is nature, isn't it? One has to kill to live. One's death means life to me. Besides, I always kill with my best intentions.Life is too fragmented, multiple, and overloaded with information: feeling lost is a normal consequence, I figured.
At a point, my head started pounding, my vision became blurred and my breathing labored when my thoughts started being scattered and illogical, too.
Everything had lost its original shape: the houses were just shadows in motion and the lamps were nothing more than insignificant and annoying dots.While rubbing my eyes with my fingers in the attempt to regain some of my sanity, I remembered something my father had told me the other day, 'You need to man up, son.'
He was right, maybe I needed to. But how could I?
Ignoring the situation I was in had only made it worse: my mind had been swaying incessantly and uncomfortably between moments of relative calm and self-awareness to moments of awe, disgust, exhaustion, revulsion, fear, and arousal.
As if that wasn't enough, I was now tremendously obsessed with her.
What if she could help me redeem myself?
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Hello, friends.
As you can see I tried representing the complexity of the characters. From the next chapter there will be more of the two together.Feel free to leave advice and suggestions and, if you want to, click in the little star to vote my story. It would mean the world to me!
Thank you for reading,
Cecilia <3.
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No one knows, but You. - Rafe Cameron
RomanceThey say the Outer Banks are paradise on earth, yet Cassandra Brown begs to differ wholeheartedly with this statement. After her tormented return to the OBX, her chances of living an almost ordinary summer are crushed by a problematic liaison with...