Coffee Stains

Lifeline

Love is good, isn't it? Good and pure.
His love wasn't.
He wasn't.
His love was dark, so dark it made black look white, just like it turned every wicked action of his into a faultless flaw, a necessary evil, something he couldn't control.
It was okay, she told herself relentlessly, he is only doing this because he had to.
She was lying to herself, and she knew it.
But it was okay, after all, he wasn't hurting her, was he?
But then, one day, he did.
He hurt her.
He hurt her until she was in agony, not just the physical kind, but the kind in which her heart was ripping to shreds in her chest and she could feel it.
She could feel the blood leak, she could feel the flesh tearing apart, but just when she thought it would be over, over for good, he brought her right back to life.
One look, one touch, one short whisper brought her back to life. Hope dancing in her eyes and sobs raking her body as she cried in his loving embrace.
But then he would tear her apart all over again.
Again and again, countless times.
But she didn't say a word, because she was in too deep.
I am in too deep.