"When tempted, no one should say "God is tempting me." For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does He tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it give...
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"You have done more evil than all who lived before you. You have made for yourself other gods, idols made of metal; you have aroused my anger and turned your back on me." - 1 Kings 14:9
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The path back from the mountains was no longer cloaked in snow, the late October air crisp and biting, yet devoid of the harsh winter winds that had once slowed their steps. Without the burden of the frozen landscape, the journey should have been easier, smoother, but for Rachel, each step felt heavier than the last. Her legs ached, exhaustion seeping into her bones, as if the weight she carried was no longer physical, but something far deeper.
Bill walked ahead of her, silent, distant. His once piercing gaze barely turned in her direction, his presence a cold shadow beside her. He had chosen a different route this time, one less familiar, winding through darker parts of the forest where the trees grew thicker, their branches twisted like silent sentinels. It felt deliberate, as though he wanted to ensure she wouldn't memorize the way back to him, in spite of the fact that it would have been impossible for her to remember a path so complex and intricate anyway.
The idea left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she said nothing. His silence was colder than the air around them, his presence a shadow that refused to meet her gaze. Then, they had braved the snow together, her hand often brushing against his, but now, there was only an unspoken chasm between them. Even without the snow beneath their feet, the return was infinitely more difficult, and only due to the deep fissure that had irrevocably settled between the two of them.
The scent of her felt intoxicating to me now, in the most sickening, most stomach churning way possible. It felt too sweet, too intense, too much, too everything...! The taste of her on my tongue remained fresh, etched into my very being, and I felt as if I wouldn't be able to get rid of it, not even if I tried to scrape it off with a knife. The mere sight of her in the corner of my eye, suddenly so meek and innocent all over again, made me go absolutely mental with seething anger. Amidst my frantic and tumultuous feelings, I'd find myself recalling Tom's words, that she truly had no place living amongst us and the other creatures of the night.
Those past few months, it had been a pleasure admiring her... observing her, adoring her... Hell, even idolizing her... But like every dream or fantasy, or in this case a grave case of a hallucination, it had to end at some point. It's not that it's my fault, it's just my style, it has always been my style. I've always yearned to have a girl, some sort of muse to obsess over until I got bored, sick, and tired of the sight. Yet this time, it terribly backfired. Not once in my lifetime have I come to loathe one of my obsessions as much as I despise Rachel... Why? Because for her, I have fallen the hardest. She's as infuriating as she is gorgeous, luminous, and just obsessively captivating. Or at least was... Used to be...
