[Book #2 in the Nystrom series.]
[Check tws before reading]
[Dual pov]
I push the feeling away and ultimately concentrate my gaze on his upper body, which still bears the traces of my lipstick. "You did not remove them?" He smirks and closes the boo...
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ROWANS POV
"Are you a sociopath?" I hear Amaya's voice just above the sound of the plane we are on. We're going home—I'd say, but my home is sitting right next to me.
She asks, and I purse my lips because I have no problem being a sociopath if she is a psychopath. "Probably. Why do you ask?" I look up and see my beautiful woman seated next to the window of the aircraft.
"I was just wondering. I guess I did not expect you to be the kind of person to murder someone and act like it was a normal thing for you." She seems to be studying my face—seems to be trying to read between the lines, seems to be searching for all the damaged and corrupted parts of my existence that I attempted to hide for her sake. I want to tell her that it is a normal thing for me, but I don't.
"Are we describing me or you, love?" I smirk and brush my lips against her temples in a wordless communication that allows us to both comprehend one another.
The secret meetings with the secret conversations containing the secret language we only understood were something we became used to. It almost feels like our entire existence has been manufactured on dark secrets, and the answers have always been there in front of us.
After some time, she scoffs as if she's only now comprehending what I said. "You are technically calling me a sociopath right now."
"And only I will ever get to call you that," I grin as I stare at her since she is aware that I am not a liar.
Being twisted or different from others shouldn't be offensive, especially if you have no control over it. "Both of us are twisted. Who cares about what everyone else thinks? They're just opinions and in the end, I'll be the one ripping their tongues out."
My remarks caused Amaya's eyes to slightly widen, and I began to question whether I had said anything wrong or whether I had been a bit too descriptive in my speech.
"Do you, like...enjoy killing people?" I chuckle as she hesitates to ask. I won't deny that I am a murderer, but I'm not that sadistic.
"I enjoy killing people who deserve it. I don't just go around ripping lives from people, I always have a reason for my actions." As I explain it to her, I see how her eyebrows are furrowed, as if she is trying to figure out the reason why I'd go around killing people.
I've murdered a lot of people, and I've come to the conclusion that she's the main cause of most of them. If it means that I have to end everyone's life in order to ensure that she is safe, then I'll make sure to do it—no, I don't enjoy killing, but I'll be having the time of my life if someone hurts her.
