This story wasn't planned

This story wasn't planned. Nothing about this world should exist. It's in my imagination, not yours. I'm only sharing my thoughts with you.

But is it real? Are we real? Is he real?

He feels real. I can feel his presence deep underneath my skin. Poison that runs through my veins, and it burns. His touch lights my skin on fire in a way I never thought possible, but it's real. He is real.

I'd let the poison flow through my veins and suffocate me. I would let it flow until my organs failed and I choked on my own blood. I'd let him flow through my blood until every last drop was consumed with him. I want to be consumed by him. I want to be in his skin, wearing it like a jacket.

Maybe that's too much. Maybe that's why this story isn't real. Maybe this story wasn't planned. But I plan to root myself so deep in his heart he'll never forget my name.