Usher

The room was silent — only our breathing filled the air, slow and uneven, like time itself had stopped just to watch us. I lay on the bed with my arms around him, his weight warm against my chest. His eyes were closed, his expression calm in a way I rarely saw. For once, the tension in his body had faded, and I could feel his heartbeat steady beneath my hand.

His hair fell messily over his forehead, and I found myself tracing a few strands aside, just to see his face more clearly. The dim light from the window softened his pale skin, almost making him look human again — delicate, peaceful… though I knew better than anyone what hid beneath that quiet surface.

I couldn’t stop my thoughts from drifting back — to the night he tied me up, the cold gleam in his eyes when he gave me that choice: stop cheating… or become his meal. I hadn’t understood him then. I thought it was only madness, only hunger. But now, lying here with him, I understood it was also something else — desperation.

He was still beside me, but not because he loved me anymore. I knew that much. I could feel the distance in the way he breathed, the way he no longer whispered my name, the way his touch had turned from desire to habit. I was his company — nothing more. The last piece of warmth he hadn’t yet devoured.

And yet, despite it all, I loved him. Not the way I did before, out of fear or guilt, but something deeper, more painful. I wanted to protect him, even from himself. I wanted to believe there was still something left to save in both of us.

But I also knew I had broken what little trust he ever had in me. I’d played with his heart, betrayed him, and now I was paying for it — trapped in a bed that felt like both a sanctuary and a cage.

If only I could go back. If only I could make him see that I truly love him now… that I’d change everything if he asked me to. But that chance was long gone.