Until Damiano died my sins only consisted of coming home late and sneaking out. Now I have killed and tortured my way to the top, and uncovered a world I didn't know existed. A world that was supposed to be long gone.
A world where kill counts and c...
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I ran into the bathroom laying down on the cold tiles, sobbing as I let the tears take over.
He hurt me.
He hurt me yet in this moment all I want is him.
I want Valentino Hart.
My chest tightened and my head began to thump, I sat up pulling my legs to my chest as I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
My hair was a mess and my face was red and blotchy, my cheeks wet and my nose runny.
I couldn't stand to look at it, I couldn't stand to see myself, I felt my insecurities rushing back to my head, and I was once again looking at the ugly girl that used to stare back at me.
The one that was weak and scared. The girl who lost her smile and I refused to look at it any longer. I balled my hand into a fist before slamming it into the mirror, I felt a sharp sting run through my knuckles as the glass scattered across the floor.
My hand hurt but the pain felt good, for a moment it distracted me from the thing that was really hurting.
No.
It only lasted a moment before I was pulled back into reality, I was distracted and scared and hurt and all I wanted was for the pain to go away, I gripped my hair tugging at it needing a distraction.
It hurts.
I need it to stop.
Please stop I begged myself.
My eyes fixated on the broken glass, from the glass to the bare skin of my arm, and back to the glass. Just one I thought to myself, just one.
No.
I forced my eyes to snap away.
No. Never again.
I looked back at the glass again debating it one more time.
It will help, the little voice in my head started to talk to me.
"No" I told myself.
"No" I repeated.
"Never again".
I stood up and left the bathroom, I couldn't sit near them, they would only be too tempting.
Even the strongest of people can easily give into temptation.
I slumped back on my bed staring at my knuckles, they had already began to bruise and the blood on the surface had began to dry.
I pulled out the small shard of glass, wincing at the pain as I thought back to Valentino's words before he left.
He told me he loves me.
It was as if I had handed my heart to him and he stomped all over it, but those three words changed it all, he picked my heart up and built it back up, but this one was bigger, this one was better and he offered it to me on a diamond platter.
