And then today, when he came to break my hunger strike, he came with ulterior motives, too. The threat laced in his voice. His splintered blue eyes. The way he constantly smells of vanilla and violence.
Everything about him feels like a well-orchestrated ruse to make a fool out of me.
The sad part is how well it’s working.
There was a moment there, when we stood inches from each other. He’d stared down at me with the kind of intensity that gathers heat. And I felt… something. I can’t be sure of what. But it was powerful enough to make me feel like the proximity between us wasn’t so bad after all.
Of course he’d knocked me back to reality with his casually cruel words. Words I can’t forget, even now, hours later.
You were a convenience for him back then. Just as you’re an inconvenience
