KILL ME SOFTLY

24

Hate me, hate me, tell me how you hate me.

Elias POV

It was getting harder and harder to hate her.

Harder To hate her voice and her face and her fucking laugh. I couldn't hate her. I couldn't hate the way she looked in her sleep, or how soft her skin was. I found it agonizing that I couldn't hate the way she would stir in the middle of the night and make little sounds, despite how it kept me from sleep.

I couldn't sleep last night, not with her being this close and unaware she was pressed to my chest with her legs by mine, her arm dripping over to the beginning of my spine.

Her touch, how she grazed my scars with her soft palms, kept me awake. Her fingers were delicate and holy on my skin and I didn't hate that I didn't feel the want to pull her away from them.

Never do I allow people to touch my back. Let them so easily run their hands along my demons.

I couldn't sleep, not when all I could think about was the man who hurt her so deeply he left scars both on the inside and out. How he could have been so foolish to let a flower so pretty and poisonous, wither under his care.

I wanted to hunt him down myself. And I was. I'd put more men on his search then I'd care to admit. She says he is lost, but when I find him from wherever he crawled into I'll make certain he wishes he hid harder.

And if he is already dead, by some gift from a god who thought better he kept his life away from me, I will shred his bones and leave no trace of his existence in the wind.

I wasn't sure how long I just stared at her, looking so deeply though the darkness that sat so rhythmically on her skin now painted with scars and memories.

Scars that I wanted to trace my tongue over, and make certain she'd never hate them.

I was angry, at the bleeding ideal that I didn't hate her, even though I wanted to and I should.

It was mad, I was crazy. Her influence made me want to lock all doors and forget what part I was supposed to play in this. What I'd get in return.

I hadn't slept. I don't think I've slept since the time she was first taken.

I hated that I couldn't get that video of her out of my head. Hated that the very thought of someone hurting her, made me want to lock both of us in this room forever.

Syn. Her name. I hated that her name fit her so well. She was a demon, eyes a deep Ichor brown, skin soft and tanned and lips that Made me wonder how they would feel dragging down my body.

I hated that I wanted her. Want. I hated that the word want barely even began to describe what I desired.

How the word want, couldn't describe How I'd snap her panties off, and take my head between her thighs. How I'd taste her, dig my tongue far before I found how she would feel when I finally took her, and sank between her legs. How deep could she take me before she screamed.

How she'd say my name into the air, as I fucked her into oblivion and with no regard or hesitation.

I could lose myself in her body. I could disappear even faster into her eyes.

When she looked at me the first time, when she stared at me, chained to the floor and restrained, I saw twisted bravery and a hatred filled soul so dark it mirrored mine.

Who she was, where she has come from, what she was worth to them, every time I look into her eyes I almost don't care. I want to make everything disappear and keep her away from the world she never knew she knew about.

Her eyes make me forget that this wasn't real and she wouldn't be mine forever. Her eyes made me want to make her want me.

They made me wonder, just how bright they would shine if she looked at me like I was..

I brushed the hair from her face, those stray strand that shadowed her. Her long dark hair a tangled mess I wanted to loop around my fingers. And I did.

Her hair was so long, curled and waved, as it fell off my fingers and kissed the skin of her back as it landed.

I've found myself thinking of her. Even when I shouldn't.

Thinking About how fucking beautiful she was, and how no woman I've seen since has eyes like razors and beauty so striking I couldn't forget their face.

Her face was in my head. Her words. The sound of her voice.

My marrige to her was strategic, my attraction to her is incidental. I know that I can't keep her. I know that she will hate me, more then now. I know that I'll be the monster of her story. I know that no matter how much I might want her, I cannot save her from what is coming.

I hated that I had spent a day searching the depths for her like a madman, despite her being here all along staring into the city lights like she saw something in them.

What I hated most of all was how she was right. Not always. But she was right that I could pretend I hated every part of her, when I'm truth I was fascinated, curious.

A part of me however still disliked her some days. Disliked the loudness and chaos she brought into my silent home.

But I knew, a part of me knew, I'll hate the way the silence feels when she is no longer here to make the noise.

I can't begin to feel this way, stay this close. Stay this invested. I know I can't. I know I'm a bastard, a liar and I know I'm a monster.

I know I'm everything she thinks I am.

"Sleep." She whispered, her eyes suddenly on mine.

Yet sleep was so far from my mind.

"Your restlessness is keeping me awake." She said, closer her eyes as she brought her hand up, and into my hair. Her finger lacing through it.

Her fingers playing through it as I forsake everything and wound my arms around her and pulled her body closer, her body fitting with mine. Her hand playing into my hair so gently.

I knew it was wrong. But I wanted her close. I Wanted to pretend and have no regrets, I wanted her to settle her body against mine in the softness of her sleep, even if it is just for tonight.