Tainted

Prologue

She awaited the sting his palm would bring, the kiss of flesh against flesh leaving only the trace of pink in its midst on her pale skin-hell she welcomed it. That's how she was with most things anyways always feeling the opposite of what was expected, of what was accepted.

Maybe that's what had people searing their eyes to the ground any time she walked past them, or what made mothers pull their babies far from her as if the darkness in her soul was contagious. She could infect a baby with a single breath; turn a dog feral with a single look.

Yet that never kept him away, in fact it might have been the only thing drawing him in. Maybe her gloom was contagious and maybe his was too; maybe that's why the moment they met they were swept from all light completely only drawing from each other.

She used to smoke cigarettes, it was a widely unacceptable concept in their small town, one of her biggest offenses in her younger days which only drove her to do it more. But she's long since gave up on that habit no longer needing to drain the cancerous infested smoke in to taint her lungs-for she had discovered something much more addictive and offensive; his breath.

She sucked in as much of his as she could every time they kissed, talked, slept, any time she was in his presence his air was hers for the taking, but he was just as greedy sucking in as much of her abhorrent air as he could. It was a continuous cycle, her drawing in contemptible air and releasing something equally spiteful as they devoured each other in their own little cloud.

He was a habit much more addictive than any of her others. Worse than the bottles of booze she stored under her bed, worse than the taste of acid and the over the counter pills she ate like candy. He made her more numb more hollow than she'd ever been and she didn't want it to stop. She needed him and he needed her, they were so bad for each other but perhaps that's what pulled them closer together.

They never let up just continued to push each other farther and farther into their own personal hell. Using tongues and words as whips and chains to drag each other down. What they had wasn't love, or anything even remotely akin to that noun it was much too raw and vile to be that. The only love shared between them was the love of what they did with their feral connection; destroy everything and everyone in their paths, including each other. Especially each other.

They were bullets and a gun both aiming to do bad, itching to do as much damage as they could but needing each other to cause any destruction.