Catastrophic

Why do people talk to me about innocence like it's something I possess?

Men constantly strut around, acting as if they are saving me from something, when all they are doing is making themselves feel less disgusting.

You can't take my innocence, Sir. For it's already been taken.

--
"I can't be around you," he mutters, his eyes darkening. I furrow my brows, taking one step closer to him, as if challenging him.

"Why? Am I annoying to you, do you hate me?"

"Dios mío, Valentina. Can't you leave it alone?" He says, exasperation in his tone as he rakes a hand through his hair.

I shake my head, clenching my jaw. "Tell me. Tell me what about me you hate," I ask, my voice shaking. "Tell me why you seem to hate me when I don't even think I did anything. Tell me, Orion," I say, getting louder.

Suddenly, he grabs my shoulders pushing me into the door. His hand darts out and he locks it. Slowly, he leans down to my ear.

"I hate that I can't be around you without wanting to fuck the innocence right out of you," he growls.

I am rendered speechless. He brushes his lips against my neck, and softly sucks on my sweet spot as my breath hitches.

"Now tell me, novio, what's my name?" He says against my hot skin.

"Papí," I moan.

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Cover by @whoiskim