There is nothing more beautiful than watching an innocent angel fall apart at my sinful actions. I'm going to ruin her.
"Augustine."
And she comes, looking down at me as she does so.
She glows, lighting up the goddamn room. Her feet barely touch t...
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I almost groan at the feeling of a bed beneath me. This has been the first time in months that I've actually wanted to sleep.
And right next to me lays Amorette, her hair still damp from throwing herself in the shower. She just came in and decided she was going to sleep here, and there was no fucking way I was going to the couch.
I'm still high, I feel it. But after what happened at Rika's, the only thing truly in my blood is anger. But it doesn't show how it's supposed to. Instead, I'm blank, I'm frightening, and I'm starting to enjoy it.
Except the one person who I wish was scared of me, she somehow finds ways to make me seem like a decent person. But I'm not. And I never will be.
———
I wake up to a gasp, which jolts me out of my sleep. Opening my eyes, I notice Amorette sitting up beside me.
Fuck, I forgot she slept in this bed last night. I try to ignore the urges and images that fill my brain, but my hormones think otherwise.
Wide brown eyes turn to me, and the sigh she lets out sounds like relief. What did she think was happening?
Her body is clad in a big t-shirt of hers, and I hope to whatever higher power that she is wearing shorts underneath. The shirt rides up as she turns to me, and shorts are visible, but they do nothing to benefit my attempt to ignore her warm body. She has my sheets smelling like her already, and it's driving me insane.
"Eros," she whispers, and I almost want to pretend I'm sleeping. But she's already seen me, there's no avoiding this now.
I turn my head toward her, letting her know I'm listening.
"Did Emilio ever come home after the party?" She asks me, her voice shaking. Her pretty little hands tremble, too. Hands that were drenched red earlier. It shouldn't have made blood rush to my groin the way it did.
"Check the room," I tell her as she nods her head at me. She slowly gets out of the bed, and I shamelessly stare at her like some sort of predator. God, I have to stop. Last night I went too far by pulling her onto me like I did. I shouldn't have let her smoke any more, and I sure as hell shouldn't have touched her how I did. Her skin is burnt into my fingertips, and I can't get it out of my head.
Soon enough, Amorette hurried back into the room, looking less stressed than before.
"He's sleeping," she says, climbing back in beside me. "I was so worried."
She glances at me when she lays her head on the pillow. Then she narrows her eyes. "I thought you didn't need to sleep."
Nevermind, she fucking irks me.
I roll my eyes, turning over on my side and facing the wall. The last thing I need is to end up rolling over on her and somehow scaring her.
"I'm sorry I woke you up," she muttered behind me, suddenly sounding sad.
