The Shadow of her Heart

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞

Romano

Holding her like this feels like a dream come true—my love, my obsession, my everything. Anima has effortlessly slipped through all the walls I have built around myself, penetrating them as if they never existed. As I gaze down at her beautiful face, nestled against me, I realize that I was ready to die for this woman from the moment she first said, "Hello."

Her hate is something I crave in a twisted way; I would rather have her yelling and screaming at me than receive nothing at all. To be at the receiving end of this indifference she wears like a second skin is unbearable. I know it is hard for her to feel; I was there, silently watching through the window the day she was first diagnosed. Psychopathy and bipolar disorder—conditions that, far from deterring me, have only deepened my longing for her. I desire every broken piece of my sweet ghost, yearning to align them with my own, to make her crave my presence as intensely as I crave hers.

As Anima sleeps on my chest, my arms wrapped protectively around her, I feel a profound sense of peace. Her grip on me is tight, almost as if she fears I would vanish if she let go. But as if I could ever leave—I would not get far even if I tried. My little ghost would find me; of that, I am certain. I want her to find me.

The sunrise casts a beautiful pink light across the forest, taking my breath away. Yet even this scene cannot compare to the beauty of my queen resting against me. I crave nothing more than to freeze this moment in time, to preserve it eternally. So, I take my time, etching every detail into my memory, savoring the warmth of her against me under the soft dawn light.

. . . . . ╰──╮. . . . . ╰──╮🗡╭──╯ . . . . .╭──╯ . . . . .

I stand in Anima's basement, intrigued by what she was so eager to show me. Yet, this is certainly not what I had anticipated. My eyes widen as I gaze at the shelf in front of me. No wonder she keeps the basement so cold. Hearts—almost a dozen, I'd say—meticulously preserved. Every time I brought her one, she kept it; does she view them as souvenirs? This is exactly the kind of insanity I adore in her, but the thought nags at me: what if someone else sees them? I do not want my little ghost to get into trouble.

I gaze at the shelf, noticing how each glass is perfectly arranged, from the first to the last heart I ever gifted her. Even the names of the victims are carefully inscribed. It looks like something straight out of a movie—a dark basement with a wooden shelf holding glass containers filled with a green liquid, each preserving a heart. The setting is as macabre as it is mesmerizing, a chilling testament to the depths of her obsession.

"Do you like my work, Shadow?" Anima's sweet voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling my focus back to her. There is an endearing pride in her expression, even if it is directed at this macabre collection. I nod in acknowledgment and run my fingers along the shelf, feeling the cool glass under my touch. Ultimately, I shift my gaze back to her, looking down at my queen with a smile, charmed by her enthusiasm even in the midst of this madness.

I place my hand under her chin, gently tilting her face upward to meet mine. Her ice-blue eyes pierce through me, almost reaching into my soul. I lean closer, our faces mere inches apart. Just as I am about to close the distance with a kiss, a sharp pain shoots through my left leg. She kicked me—what? A hiss of pain escapes me as I glare down at her, both surprised and bewildered by her sudden defiance.

"What was that for, little ghost?" I ask, my voice sharper than I intended. Am I no longer allowed to touch her? If that is the case, I might just die right here. Each rejection from her drives me insane, compelling me to tear down the walls she erects, even if I have to claw through them with my bare hands.

Her grin is confident, her stare piercing. Oh, how much I would love to wipe that smug look off her face, to show her just how much she belongs to me, and how much I belong to her.

"Love is earned, sweet boy," she whispers in a taunting tone, her gaze drifting to the shelf behind her.

So, my love wants me to earn her affection? She desires another heart? Fine. I will get her all the hearts she desires; her wish is my command.