㋿🄑ㅤ ❌ㅤ 𝕭urnice 𝖂hi𝘁𝔢ㅤ ❜

The air in the workshop has always had that metallic, fuel-like scent. But today, that smell is unbearably suffocating. I'm sitting on the workbench, the fuel harness resting against my thighs, while the dim neon lights of New Eridu flicker above us.

Lighter is behind me. I feel his hand, heavy and firm, tracing the outline of my neck with that possessiveness that has always sent shivers down my spine. He is a constant presence, a rock, a solid wall that nothing can break. He is the fire that burns without consuming, the intensity I've been searching for.

—Do it—Lighter murmurs, his voice like cold gravel.

I pick up my phone. My hand isn't shaking; in fact, I feel strangely light. I adjust the angle so the lens perfectly captures the moment his lips touch my skin, right there, where you used to kiss me. I press the shutter. The flash briefly illuminates our connection, our truth.

I send the image. I write the message before logic can even intervene.

It's nothing personal, love. It's just that you... you could never ignite this. You only gave me comfort, while he makes me feel alive, dangerous, real. You keep your stability, I'll keep the fire.

I lock my phone and drop it onto the tools. Lighter tightens his grip, and I close my eyes, letting his warmth consume me, without a trace of remorse. The charade is over, and to be honest, I couldn't feel more liberated.