I love her.

My lips smirked as I watched her struggle beneath me. She was terrified, and I couldn’t help but bask in the ecstasy of the moment. I had a stunning creature in my arms, but I wish she understood; I just wanted to make her even more beautiful. She deserved to be the epitome of beauty, and I craved to help her rise to that pedestal.

The bluest of eyes stared at me with an intensity of fear that made me tremble with anticipation. Her body fell limp at a gradual passing of time, no longer fighting against my weight; quiescent. I stared at the motionless form beneath me, shuddering with awe at her mortal beauty. How could death be so exquisite, so mesmerizing? A blue hue painted her lips as her life faded into nothingness. I brushed my lips against hers, tasting my enduring lust for her mortality.

I looked once again into her eyes, so cold and devoid of life. Drawn to those cold eyes, even as I watched their warmth fall away, I wanted to keep her to myself. She was too precious to be left to the cruel world; she needed to be free from the world’s unattainable expectations. It was my fault, my doing. I created this beautiful creature lying on the floor. I was her saviour.

I loved her.