She is so beautiful. She is truly perfect. I stroke her mousy brown hair as she sleeps. I know from experience her eyes are a strikingly bold green. They have been trained on my face many times. Now, her eyes are closed, and in sleep she appears almost peaceful. Almost.
My hands slowly move there way down her face. I trace the contours of her face as an artist examines a statue. So beautiful.
She begins to stir. Her eyes start to flutter and her lips begin to move ever so slightly. Her lips are plump and pink. Like I said, she is beautiful.
I stand though I wish I could sit next to her forever. She needs me. I find the cold metal tray and pull my hands into the gloves.
She is awake now and those green eyes are trained on my face. They are so beautiful.
I turn away though. I can't be distracted. She needs me.
My hands grasp the syringe. It is already filled with a thick white liquid. I tap it exactly three times. Perfect.
I lean close to her. I am so close my face is inches away from those gorgeous pink lips. I am mesmerized by them still - when I feel wet on my face.
I am angry now as I wipe the saliva off my face. She is lucky I love her.
"That wasn't very nice," I coo.
Her eyes widen. Good.
I tap the syringe again for good measure. She sees this and begins to struggle against the leather restraints on her arms and legs. She is still fighting when I plunge the string into her arm. Such strength, her strength is part of the appeal.
She stops struggling. Her back arches off the cold metal table. She screams a blood curdling scream and I feel a laugh gurgling in the back of my throat.
I throw my head back as a laugh rips through my throat and we are a symphony of pain and delight as she writhes in pain.
I smile down at the frail figure tied to the exam table. She is crying now and I wipe away the tears but stop when she attempts to bite my hand. Even her white teeth are perfectly straight.
She is so beautiful. She is truly perfect.
