Obsessive Control ( Under publishing contract )

Two Brothers

My hand ached like hell and I could barely hold on to the steering wheel.

Every time I put my burnt hand on the wheel, forgetting about its condition. I grimaced as I swerved into the road.

- Why did you put your hand on the license plate?

I kept staring at the road, I couldn't see the reason myself. What could I say to her?

That I was going crazy.

No.

It has to stay with me, no matter what state I'm in.

It takes me longer and longer to come back from these fucking moments of absence.

But the question was where I was going and why all the memories were coming back now.

- I can't help you if you don't answer me, Love. You could have lost the use of your hand.

I sneer.

- We would have been a couple of broken arms like that little puppy.

Without looking at her, I knew she wasn't laughing.

- You think it's funny, you broke my wrist by the way, it still hurts like hell. I don't even know if I could paint like I used to.

I gasp, looking down at my bandaged hand, she'd taken good care of me after the accident.

- Thanks for looking after me.

She remained silent, and I turned my head for a few seconds, her mouth open and her eyes scrutinizing me.

- Wow, I'm dreaming, you've really just thanked me.

I accede to her request and pinch her shoulder.

- But what's wrong with you pinching me?!

I frown with incomprehension.

- You said pinch me, wasn't that what you wanted?

She crosses her arms over her chest, looking at me.

- That's what we call an expression, not to be taken literally.

An expression?

- I see, it doesn't matter.

We were almost there, I was tense.

- Don't talk to the people you're going to meet.

- Why shouldn't I?

- Just do as I say.

She grumbles as she sinks into the seat.

I parked not far from the rendezvous point.

It was a gray, almost black sky that looked like it was about to collapse.

I hold out my hand and she grasps it, intertwining our fingers.

I smile.

I love her so much. She knows exactly what I need.

Aris

We had arrived, and I was much more at ease in her presence. The time we'd spent together had given me hope that he wasn't the monster I'd thought he was.

He's actually much more sensitive than he lets on.

I love the way he tells me he loves me, and maybe I'm crazy too, but could I do any better?

Did I want him already?

I don't think so.

On the surface, Love is totally my style, but as for his character, well... Let's not talk.