I never knew his neck would be so soft to touch; so slender; so fragile. I could even feel the veins under my fingers, the blood pulsating through them, the fickle life within them.
His hands made pitiful attempts to push me away – just like I had done the last time – the time when he had been the hunter, and I the prey.
The roles were reversed. I wanted to laugh like he did last time. But I just stared into those eyes. I didn’t want to miss any of his pain. The shock and fear reflecting in those pools sent waves of thrills through my body- the one he had raped. His writhing body, his vain attempts to breathe, and his strangled shouts for help appeased my aching heart. No words, no hugs, no comfort, had ever felt so soothing.
His cold skin felt so warm; his heart and lifeless eyes so endearing.
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