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And that soft smile… she could conquer empires with it.
She breaks the spell and carries on eating, yet here I am… still staring at her—her gentle, upturned nose, the curve of her lips, the square jaw, her throat moving as she swallows, its softness under my strong hand…
I shake the image forming in my mind and finally turn to look at the plate of food she made for me—crispy, streaky bacon, two fried eggs that smell of butter, and four pancakes.
“You like it here.” She turns at my words. “The view… the mountain.” I gesture towards it.
She smiles and nods, turning her gaze back at it all, and I follow suite.
“My mother was not surprised I chose to move here. She laughed and said I came back to my roots, where I belong.”
I feel her gaze on me. I’m not even sure why I’m still talking, why I’m sharing this.
“My parents moved here from Sweden just before I came along. My last name is Bergman… it quite literally meansmountain man.”
She chuckles and something breaks inside of me. Music to my fucked up soul…
Somehow it feels like home… not this house, not this mountain, but this moment… this whole morning.
For the first time in a long time, I slept in. Too bad it’s because I stayed up far too late looking up information about Adrien. When I opened my eyes and the snow greeted me as always this time of year, it felt different. The snow shining under the sunlight, the snowflakes sparkling, the birds flying above the trees, singing their songs, everything felt charged with a life force that didn’t seem to exist until this day started.
Every breath I took in felt different, and it had nothing to do with the delicious, faint smells that assaulted me, clearly coming from the kitchen. The air feels light, my soul calm. The next breath I took filled me with the smell of bacon, butter, and coffee, and my mouth watered instantly. I turned towards the bedroom door, looking at it in disbelief, expecting to wake up at any moment. I didn’t. I was awake. And Suki was in the kitchen… cooking.
I turned on my back and laid there, under the soft comforter, trying to make sense of how it all came to this.
She was supposed to be the object of my darkest desires.
She was supposed to be the one I finally got to destroy.
She was supposed to be the one where all bets were off, and I could finally succumb to needs I was never able to properly fulfill in my old life.
And she is… she fucking is… but not like I ever thought. She’s willing, but not like the others. Never like the others. This is not a silly, kinky challenge for her. It’s not a desire. It’s not a sexual craving.
This is hunger! Heart wrenching, soul debilitating starvation. A need that ruled her mind and body since the moment she started to exist. This is her soul demanding a darkness only I can give her.
She needs to burn and I will happily set her on fire.
There I was… in my bedroom, my flesh broken by a bullet I took for her, my dick hard thinking of the blood she took from me, and the smell of her cooking making me grunt in satisfaction.
Fucking surreal.
No matter how much I wish this wouldn’t have happened this way… it did. It shook me to my fucking core and brought me to my knees, and there’s no fucking way I’m walking away from it.
I should have been more eager to go downstairs, perhaps worried that she will attempt to run away from this house… from me. I wasn’t. If I am to pursue this, I need to know I’m not chasing shadows, phantasms.
When I finally walked downstairs, the scene caught me by surprise, even if I was expecting it. The maple syrup was waiting by the stove, the coffee in the French press, and she was bathed in the sunlight, sitting casually on the steps of my porch… that’s the surprise I was not expecting… how she fit. Now I sit here, eating the breakfast she prepared for me, drinking the coffee she brewed, with her by my side, her body covered in my clothes.
Surreal… surreal was the only word that could describe this perfectly mundane image, only it was not mundane at all. I know that with the right look in my eyes she would run and she would know I will follow.
But as I look down at her bare legs and see the healed scars—a cut on her right calf, another one under her left knee, above as well, smaller ones following some sort of pattern on her left thigh… and then on her right one, peeking from under my long hoodie, a deep scar…
Before my brain realizes what my body is doing, the now empty plate is on the porch floor and I’m lifting the hoodie to get a clearer look.
Her skin breaks into goosebumps instantly, and I can see her muscles contracting, but her body is still, like she’s anticipating an attack. As I realize what the scar is, my eyes dart to hers and she’s gone… her mind no longer here.
“Suki…?”
SUKI
