Description
I had always found him beautiful. He wasn't handsome in the true sense of the word. He was just... lovely. His eyes were always calm and his posture was relaxed. Even now as he stood across the room from me, fire mere feet away from engulfing him, his eyes were still unwavering, gentle even, despite what he was and what he was capable of. And he was calm. Smoke invaded my lungs and he was calm. The windows melted from their panes and he still put more weight on his right foot than his left like he had always done. The wood began crackling under our feet and he gazed at me like I was a mountain view. That's when I knew, the thing about loving a psychopath is that it's unexpectedly easy to do. "He is the boy your mother told you was sick but you could not seem to stay away from his hospital bed and somehow you caught his disease.
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