"You ever put a leash on me, I'll fucking strangle you with it."
Just a reminder that "I do not forgive you" in response of "I am sorry" is NORMAL.
You being sorry does NOT make it mandatory for the other person to must forgive you.
No, she hadn't lost her fire. It just lay dormant inside her most days, And what she couldn't figure out was why him. Why not Jackson, or any of her father's men, or even Dante for that matter? Why this man with the voice of sin and the body of a sinner? He called her fire forth like a mage and she did not understand it.
~Morana Vitalio
Don't you know not to run away from predators, sweetheart? We like the hunt.
I had almost forgot how much it mattered to share your misery with at least one soul before taking your last breath. That person will die also. But that moment will stay. Time will not forget your whispers, your cries. Pieces of your pain will be preserved in the mystery that is time, untill it ends.
"There was another reason why I followed you tonight."
The air stuck in her throat and her chest tightened, her heart pattering "What?"
There was silence for a few seconds, before the words came on, the dead tone in them, the rigid hatred in them turning her stomach.
"No one else gets to kill you, Ms. Vitalio," he spoke quietly "The last face you see before you die will be mine. When it comes to death, you're mine."
Morana grit her teeth as her mind, unwittingle drified to Tristan Caine Again.
She'd pushed the entire episode from two nights ago out of her mind. Vowing not to think about it ever again. Because the mess who'd been standing in her room with his blood on her hand, the confused mass of limbs who hadn't dared breathe because everything had been so baffling that wasn't her.
Morana Vitalio did not behave like a pathetic little girl being thrown a bone.
Morana Vitalio did not show vulnerabilities to anyone but herself.
Morana Vitalio did not expose the jugular to a man who went straight for it.
🖤
"One day, I'm going to carve your heart out and keep it as a souvenir. I promise."
He chuckled.
"You assume I have a heart, wildcat."
"You should know not to come into the house of the enemy, all alone, unprotected. And you should know never to sneak up on a predator. Once we catch up the scent of your blood, it's a matter of the hunt."
He moved the knife again a spot near the base of her neck. "And this... you know what happens if I cut you here?"
Morana stayed silent, just watching him, his voice taunting, almost seductive with the temtation of death.
"you'll feel pain," he continued, undaunted. "Bleeding to death. You will feel every drop of blood that leaves your body." His voice rolled over her skin. "Death will come, but much, much later. And the pain will be excruciating."
~Tristian Caine
🖤
Tristan 'The Predator' Caine.
They called him the predator. His reputation preceded him. He rarely went on the hunt but when he did, it was over. When he did, he went straight for the jugular. No distractions. No playing around. For all his unruffled attitude, the man was more lethal than the knife cutting into her thigh.
He was also the reason she had come to the party.
She was going to kill Tristan Caine.
(I am very much happy with the start 🖤)
"You have no idea what you do to me, Àle. I would destroy the world if it would please you. I would ruin every man who thought he could have you."
~Dom 🖤
I was tired of fighting against the tide when I just wanted to sink into oblivion.
"That was the irony of life. People always reminisced about the good old days, but we never appreciated living in those days until they were gone."
~ Alexandera
"No matter how solid the rock, waves would eventually erode it through sheer persistence. It was a law of nature, unstoppable and inevitable."
~Alexandra Davenport
"Let me go"
My grip tightened. She wasn't talking about just this moment, and we both knew it.
"I wish I could." It would be easier if I never fell for her.I went into our first meeting determined to hate her, not knowing she would be the one who showed me what real love was instead. I might not have expressed it as often as I should've, but she'd always been the sun keeping my world in orbit.
I hated the effect he had on me. I hated how my eyes always went to him in a room full of people and how I couldn't stop thinking about him no matter how hard I tried. Most of all, I hated how I couldn't hate him, not even a little bit. No matter how many times he broke my heart, there would always be a piece that belonged to him.
"What are you doing here anyway? Don't tell me you're stalking me" I wouldn't put it past him He would go to any length to win.
A touch of visible amusement cooled his anger. "The bar is down the street from my office, amor, I had a client meeting here."
"Oh." Right. I'd picked the bar out of a list of "best happy hour spots in the city" and completely forgot it was so close to Dominic's workplace.
His expression softened. "Ask me again on another day, and my answer might be different. I would stalk you if it meant you'd talk to me again."
"How romantic."
m past romantic, Alessandra. I'm desperate."
✨
Dominic wasn't the boy who gave himself a hundred paper cuts making origami versions of my favorite flowers for my birthday, and I wasn't the girl who floated through life with stars and dreams in her eyes.
"I don't have the money to buy you all the flowers you deserve yet," he said, sounding so solemn and formal I couldn't help but smile at the contrast between his tone and the far of colorful paper flowers in his hands "So I made them instead." My breath caught in my throat. "Dom.."
There must've been hundreds of flowers in there.I didn't want to think about how long it took him to make them.
"Happy birthday, amor.One day, I'll buy you a thousand real roses. I promise."
🖤
You said you'd be there when I need you most of all the times
And I believe it, like I believe on the stars' shine
But now at here when, I am burning like a match burn with oil
All I taste is ashes of my own mind
All I see is memories playing on smoke screen
All I hear is, my agony, my screams, and my cries
And I waited till the last flame of my life
In a hope to die, drowning in your warm eyes
But I burnt with lack of any of your sign
in a cold death, Ironically caused by fire.
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