ETHAN:
Olivia Cameron was quite a thing.
And she had done the one thing that seemed impossible to happen.
She had made me forget my demons. Thoughts of her, swirl around my resolve like a fortress wall, creating a sanctuary that even my darkest demons couldn’t breach.
In the dimly lit room, shadows clung to the corner like a haunting presence. My mind too, was shrouded in darkness as I lay alone, in my bed, grappling with the thoughts of her. Her name was a whisper that ignited a storm within. I couldn’t escape the abyss of that same want, that ache, that craving that I have longed to suppress.
She had reached into my soul and unleashed that need in me. It was as though I had become a prisoner of my own desires. The thought of her was a torment I couldn’t escape.
I shouldn’t be thinking of her like that.
She is Dani’s little sister, one who is off-limits. A forbidden thing. A rule I shouldn’t break.
But still, those timid, piercing blue hues called out to me, like a siren’s song, and I, unable to resist, was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. Her eyes held a depth of oceanic intensity, each glance a deafening sea of emotions. They were the kind that could reveal a universe of secrets, a hypnotic whirlpool of vulnerability and strength, and I found myself lost in their depth, yearning to understand the paradox behind those spellbinding orbs. They held a beauty that defied description, a mesmerizing blend of cerulean and sapphire, like two rare gems set in the delicate frame of her face.
Those eyes were bewitching.
Transfixing.
No, Olivia Cameron was the definition of bewitching.
Even those words were incapable of elucidating her.
I’ve seen her quite a few times around Dani’s house, met her thrice in there, and seen her trying to have a conversation with me once.
She was a curious little thing, always looking for ways to understand her surroundings better. I was fascinated by how she always tried to look nonchalant, unknown to the fact that she was an open book, her emotions, as clear as day on her face.
Unable to resist myself any longer, I sit up, my legs hanging off the bed. I reach down to my chest drawer to take out my diary and pen.
Eleven long years had passed since I last opened that old journal, a repository of the words I couldn’t bring myself to speak aloud. The last entry was a haunting reminder of a time when my world had crumbled beneath me, revealing the depth of the harsh truth about what a person I had become. The weight of those memories still clung to the pages in a jumbled set of words, making it a testament to what a horrible person I am.
No one knows what I did, and sometimes I also want to forget it like it never happened, but my head always makes sure to remind me.
The voices in my head always do.
The voices in my head always remind me by calling me out on it.
A murderer.
A bloody murderer.
I open the notebook, not having the heart to look at the other entries, I go straight to the back of it. My heart was a jumble of words unspoken to anyone, looking for ways to convey every feeling I had with the tip of my pen on the notebook. This pen was the only confidant I trusted with the weight of my unspoken words.
YOU ARE READING
Connection | 18+
Storie d'amore"I want you to have control." He was supposed to be my mentor, and I, his mentee. Instead, he became a warlock, and I, his beguiled. In the middle of their secrecy, they will find a connection they had never before. Secrets will be unfolded that the...
