Roman
She looks different when she’s asleep—softer, more innocent. The room is dim, and the soft glow from the bedside lamp casts a halo around her, heightening the angelic illusion.
In this slumbering state, she looks pure, untouched by the sins of the world or the darkness that festers within me. It’s easier to fool yourself into thinking that’s all there is to a person when you see them like this.
But I know better now.
She looks so damn innocent lying there, but I’ve seen the storm in her eyes, the same kind that’s in me. The realization is as exhilarating as it is terrifying. I’ve glimpsed something else—a darkness, a wildness that echoes my own.
I lean against the doorway, arms folded across my chest, taking her in. There’s a dangerous pull there, an almost magnetic force draw
