When I walked into the room, the scene was nothing short of a battleground. There were clothes scattered around, wet sheets clinging on to the bed, books lying with crumpled pages and torn covers, curtains half dangling from the windows.
As I tiptoed my way around like a seasoned thief trying to leave no evidence at a crime scene, the smell of something odd lurked in the air, something perverse and exhilarating at the same time, something which should never have taken place.
I couldn't help but go back it time. It was yesterday night, I was alone and he came in like a god, like Zeus descending from Olympus. He came to me when I needed him the most. I shudder slightly as I get lost in my reverie. He smirked as he removed his shirt and forced me against the wall, I began to pant, and my breath betrayed my innermost feelings to him. He knew that as he looked right into my soul with his blue eyes and said "you're mine'.
He was my everything. From the day I set my eyes upon him, his every step, his every move, his eyes; they all possessed me but this! This was wrong! And yet, somewhere within the heart, a tiny minuscule feeling disagreed.
