A Love Like Ours || m.f.

18

Your P.O.V (backtrack a bit to before Mark left the aparment)

"Now." Abel started

"Abel, c'mon. We're grown adults! This is insane!"

"But-"

"Don't 'but' me. This is ridiculous. I'm leaving." I tried to walk past him and out of the apartment, but I didn't even get close, as I was aggressively shoved back.

Abel chuckled lowly. "You think you have a choice. That's cute."

"Abel you aren't a bad person. Don't become one. Think of the consequences! What are you getting yourself into? Don't you want to live a fulfilling life? If you let me leave right now, I won't call the cops."

"You aren't even going to get the chance to call the cops. And what for? Hanging out at a friends house?"

"Abel please." I begged, I just wanted to go home.

"Shut up."

"What?"

"Stop talking." He turned away from me and faced the door, but that was short lived as he approached me and pushed me back onto his couch.

"I'm done with wishing you were mine." His voice had a sinister ring to it.

"You know I always wanted to know what you looked like, underneath all this." He gestured to my shirt and smirked.

"What happened to you?" I whimpered.

"What? What do you mean?"

"What happened to the Abel that helped me on the stairs? Or the Abel that let me crank the music and roll the windows down? The Abel that took me to the hospital?"

"He's gone." His answer was short and to the point.

He didn't take time to reminisce. The Abel I thought I knew was long gone, and I could see it in his eyes. The shallow ocean blue turned dark. The blue you see at the depths of the sea. The unknown.

"Take it off."

"No."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm not scared of you Abel."

Lies. I was petrified.

"No? Good. Take off your shirt."

"No." I refused. I wouldn't do it.

"Do you need help?" He completely ignored my refusal and pulled a nice-sized pocket knife from his shorts.

"I can help."

I looked down at the knife and gulped.

"Now Abel-"

"No! Don't worry about it, I'm happy to help." He advanced towards me and pressed the cold metal against my skin.

"I-I can get it." My hands were shaking as I reached for the bottom hem of my shirt.

He removed the knife and watched as I began to remove my shirt. The fear seeped down into my bones as I felt his intense stare against my bare skin. He moved closer and traced the blade of the knife against my hip bone.