Amanda’s pov.
“I have no intention of hurting you Amanda,” he explained calmly. I could sense the sincerity in his tone, but the last time someone said that to me, they ended up hurting me in a way that left marks embedded into my skin.
“But you will,” I tore my eyes away from his and fixed them on the painting hanging on the wall behind him.
It’s one of Madeline’s, a very tall woman with multiple bows in her hair and scars on pale skin, the background is black and the painting is depicting her bare back with the multiple scars in them. I trace each and every one with my eyes and I feel each and every one on me.
“And you’ll hurt me too,” he gives me a lopsided smile.
We stand there in silence for a few minutes, and that’s enough time to let the charged atmosphere around us dissipate.
