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The love once hidden behind a closed locket bloomed. It contorted in all shapes, swirling and poking at my heart. It was blue and purple and green and brown. But it was pink too.
I looked at the woman before me, the Angel I was never meant to touch. I could reach for her, whisper promises that fell on ringing ears, but never make contact.
She was radiant under the radiation of the sun. The vision of her beauty became blemished, her smooth skin burning and smoking. My eyes widened and shut, the horror gone when I stared into her gentle eyes once more.
Her yapping, continuous and never ending, was once condemned. I used to be annoyed, shutting any attempts down. But now my skin warmed into a pale red.
Her curls, blonde and everything perfect, were smooshed under her fragile head. The skull underneath was laid carefully on the cushioning pillow, and I just wished to pull her flesh back until I reached bone.
The lust clawed through the delicate petals of love, crushing the flowering emotion with cruelty. It began to decay in my lungs, the air in the room growing stuffy and hard to inhale.
This one was red, a representative of the anger that forever laid dormant.
I need her.
For myself.
I refuse to share this far-from-innocent feeling with anyone else. Not even with her boyfriend.
He doesn’t deserve her, not like I do. He doesn’t treat her right. I only think of her, she plagues my mind like a welcomed disease.
I raised my hand, placing it on her cheek like she was porcelain. Extra careful to not damage her, like my hands have done with many others.
Her face twisted to uncomfortably glance at my intrusive limb. I stared at her unblinking, my eyes boring into her own hazel ones. They were lined with pink eyeshadow, barely visible under my scrutinising gaze.
I searched her for anything besides unease. The longer I inquired, the more she began to grow disturbed.
She reached up with her own hand, pink nails brushing against my skin. She pulled my hand away from the wrist, holding it in her own on the bed.
My hopeful expression fell into one of discouragement.
After all I’ve done, this is how she repays it?
I blanked.
I laid over the one I loved in bed. Her legs over my shoulders, a blissed expression on her face. I looked down to see what I wanted all this time, but My vision turned red.
Blood, gore and the smell of iron. My mouth split in shock at the gruesome sight, an equally horrible taste lingering in my mouth. I wiped my lips, the back of my hand stained with my beautiful, red lipstick. But it was dripping, almost like thick water.
My face became upturned in a wicked smile, a broken display of conditional love.
I looked down at her exposed abdomen, her pink panties stained with the oozing fluid. I grinned, using my covered nails to slowly peel back the layer
“I wanna be your boyfriend”