An Occupational Hazard

An Occupational Hazard

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación sáb, feb 24, 2018
"That color doesn't suit you well..." His deep voice surprises me yet again, and I nearly spill the whiskey that I'm pouring into his glass. I look up at from the task at hand to see him studying my bruised face. I feel anger nagging me, and I feel the urge to snap at him. "I didn't exactly pick it myself... It's just my place in this new world.." I manage to hide the bitter tone threatening to seep into my voice. He narrow his green eyes at me ever so slightly. He ever so slowly sits up straight, and gets to his feet, and with that one movie he grows to a menacing giant. I step back to allow him more room, and myself more of a chance to get away. His every move seems calculated. He is approaching me like I a wounded animal, and I don't care for it one bit. He raises his unbraced hand and places it on my shoulder facing towards the heavens. From the corner of my eye, I can see him carefully grasping a strand of my strawberry blonde hair between two calloused fingers. "It doesn't have to be that way..."
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❝𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚 & 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚❞ I should not feel anything for someone who is my enemy, someone who has caused me so much pain that the very thought of him should fill me with nothing but rage and bitterness. Yet, against all logic, I feel it-I feel the heat rising beneath my skin . The mere idea of his touch sends shivers down my spine, igniting sensations that I desperately want to ignore. This isn't right. I shouldn't crave the presence of someone I despise, but my body betrays me, responding to him in ways that my mind fiercely rejects. He stands so close that his breath fans across my face, warm and intimate, stirring emotions that I refuse to acknowledge. A slight movement is all it would take for our lips to meet, for this unbearable tension to shatter into something far more dangerous. His hands are braced on either side of my head, trapping me, yet he doesn't need to touch me to make me feel trapped. His body hovers just out of reach, yet I can sense him, every inch of him, as if the air itself is an extension of his presence. I shouldn't desire this man. I shouldn't want to close the gap, to feel the press of his body against mine. I should be repulsed, disgusted by how my thoughts betray my hatred. But my body doesn't listen to reason , it yearns for what it shouldn't, driven by instincts I can't control. I despise him-my enemy- My rival-but the line between hatred and desire is blurring, and I'm terrified of which side I might fall on. {𝖠 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾 } | | Mature content 18+| |

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