Between Wather and Fire

Between Wather and Fire

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WpMetadataNoticePublikasi terakhir Sen, Jul 17, 2023
TRIGGER WARNING It was the first time that someone had drawn my attention in the true sense of the word. It wasn't just a curiosity. I was sure of that. It was obsession. Obsession crossed the threshold of madness. Helen Casado was the first woman I had allowed to live even though she had tried so many times to kill me. She saw me as a monster. I was the reason for her nightmares and her most dirty and erotic fantasies. I was also the creator of her suffering and her healer. Her executioner and her savior. But I was nowhere near what she thought I was. In the end, she will realize on her own that there is no victory when you try to play with the Devil. Because this is me. The devil walking among the living. Because when you die, you choose between water and fire. Become one with the sea of ​​destroyed people, or rise as an avenging angel of death. And usually you get the title of Devil. It's not my case either. I wanted death, but at the same time I was very stubborn to die. But I had chosen fire.
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College? No, this was paradise. Three years filled with partying, not so secret underground drug-deals, and hot-headed men sliding into beds like snakes with no self-control. Things were different now. I wasn't that perfect, frill-wearing angel Mama thought would walk into the house ring-beared. So many things had changed, except for one. Him. He was a disease, one I couldn't get rid of no matter how hard I tried. Everytime he's near, I feel myself turn into something I've never seen before. Like there's something under my skin only he is capable of bringing out. He's manipulative, twisted, and completely wrong in every way. I hate him. Yet every night, from miles away, I find him in my dreams. Mikhail Volkov Fuck the patriarchy. Better yet, fuck everything and everyone. It was a game of cat and mouse, me chasing victories every single day. The Bratva's constant want for war was what kept the fuel in my blood, burning up into flames whenever my knuckles made contact with another opponent. In the end, I'm always the one left standing. This fire in my bones, I feel it burst into flames while every dark memory, thought and desire runs into my fists. So many medals, but only the people around me could see them. The real battle was against my head. And maybe, just maybe, I was afraid to admit that I had no chance in winning it. She makes it harder. An angel with wings to everyone else, yet a master at unveiling those devil's horns only when I'm near. There's this darkness, this fire, in the both of us. The only difference is, she's better at hiding it. She was gone, far away, yet there was this tether dowsed in fuel connecting us, one that only lit up when she came back. Every time she's near, I feel the limits surrounding my wrath being tested. Then again, rules are only made to be broken, right? Mafia Dark Romance *Standalone*

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