LIE
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jan 15, 2024
"I whispered, 'You're not real,' my voice hoarse from shouting and screaming half an hour ago. I moved my head away from the cold metal headboard of the bunk bed I was leaning against and then swiftly banged it back. 'You.' I said, feeling a pain in my forehead. 'Real.' I heard the sound of a door. 'Not.' As I reunited my forehead with the cold metal of the bunk bed, I inhaled the sour smell of my blood. 'You are not real.' Just as I was about to hit my forehead against the metal again, a strong hand grasped my wrist. I didn't turn to look as it pulled me back. I already knew who it was. The killer. My killer."
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She didn't reply and I felt her finger move across my skin, lower, and almost all the way down my lower back. A shiver coursed through my body, strangely pleasant, and I felt her finger stop. "Your tattoos are beautiful," she said softly. Too close. She was too close. My pulse was hammering and I could feel her cool breath against my skin when she spoke, and my body was warm from having felt her. I couldn't reply. My breathing was light and shaken. I wanted to just turn around and pull her against me, or rather put her against a wall, so I could kiss her and feel her more properly against me. If she touched me again, I wasn't sure that I could keep myself from doing just that. "I'm going to take a shower," I said suddenly in an attempt to escape. She didn't stop me, so I took that opportunity to walk away. When I reached the bathroom, I took a deep breath to steady myself as well as my pulse. Closing the door behind me, I ran a hand through my hair. She truly was a nightmare. A bad boy's worst nightmare was a girl that made him want to be a good one.

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