His Pity Game
  • Reads 1,539
  • Votes 52
  • Parts 12
  • Time 46m
  • Reads 1,539
  • Votes 52
  • Parts 12
  • Time 46m
Ongoing, First published Jul 19, 2015
You were only a kid, 
not a where of your surroundings,
You thought you knew,
But you didn't.

You knew that was a bad decision,
Because you got you killed.

You called him Sir, 
He doesn't deserve to be talked to.

He got your smile,
And got your fear.

Now he's left you to die,
Over and over again,
Would you survive?

In his Pity Game?
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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨π₯π₯𝐒𝐬𝐒𝐨𝐧 | 18+ by A_solitude_girl12
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{𝖠 π—Œπ—π–Ίπ—‡π–½π–Ίπ—…π—ˆπ—‡π–Ύ } κ§π€ππ―πšπ’π­ 𝐬𝐒𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐒𝐚 & 𝐌𝐒𝐀𝐬𝐑𝐚 π’π’π§π π‘πšπ§π’πš ꧂ 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. | | Mature content 18+| |
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{𝖠 π—Œπ—π–Ίπ—‡π–½π–Ίπ—…π—ˆπ—‡π–Ύ } κ§π€ππ―πšπ’π­ 𝐬𝐒𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐒𝐚 & 𝐌𝐒𝐀𝐬𝐑𝐚 π’π’π§π π‘πšπ§π’πš ꧂ 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. | | Mature content 18+| |