I stop cutting and put down the scalpel to glance at him.
Not afraid? Of me?
I step closer, and the sweat droplets roll down his neck, but he stays put in the face of death.
Admirable. Insane, but admirable.
“You need to leave.”
“No,” he says, still defying me. “Cut me. Kill me. I don’t care. I’m done running away.”
I chuckle. Maybe I’ve finally made someone as insane as I am.
“Running away from what?”
He tilts his head. “Death.”
Death.
To him, I am the personification of death.
One touch and your soul belongs to me.
That’s all I’ve ever shown people. Wrong me, and it’ll be your demise.
It’s an easy way to keep people at bay, to stop them from seeing the deeper parts of my wounded soul, but even the loss of life won’t stop him from craving me.
I slowly grab his hand and bring it to Carlo’s body, our fingers entwined with his blood.
Right then, I push Xavier’s hand forward so he stabs Carlo in the heart. Blood squirts out like a fountain all over us, dousing us in the remnants of my retribution.
The unwavering fear in Xavier’s eyes is gone.
All but replaced with a sense of awe and rage … So much fucking rage over the injustice of it all. He doesn’t ask the question that’s been on his tongue since the moment I came back to campus, doesn’t force me to face my demons, doesn’t judge me for enacting my wicked fantasies.
“I will help you kill anyone you want,” he says, his bloodied hand reaching for my face, the gentle caress so unfamiliar it makes my breath hitch. “As long as I can be by your side and watch you heal the broken parts that make youyou.”
Fuck.
He just managed to rip right through the scars.
“You shouldn’t, it’s wrong,” I say, as he inches closer and closer. “I break people into shrapnel and use them as weapons until they’re gone.”
“I don’t care if it’s wrong. I want you. I need you. I cannot live as long as you aren’t happy. And if that means killing every last man on this earth, I will happily oblige.”
How does he make this sound so easy when I demand the world?
How could he want to give a malicious soul like me everything he has to give?
His hands curl around my face, leaving bloodied streaks of madness. “Use me. Hate me. Fuck me. Hurt me until I bleed. I don’t care, as long as I get to be your vessel for slaughter.”
Tears well up in my eyes, but I push them away as my arms wrap around his neck, and I pull him in for the deepest, darkest kiss covered in the bloodstains of my victim.
“Stop,” I whisper into his mouth, but I keep on kissing him. “Stop falling in love with me.”
“I can’t. It’s too late,” he says between needy kisses.
I claim his mouth like there’s no tomorrow. “I’m not the kind of girl anyone should fall for. It’s not fucking right.”
