Page 105 of The Guru: Shadow

PLAYLIST: LAST PARADISE - KWOON

She had lost complete track of time for how long Deis sat there with her, kissing her, taking her in. All of it was a blur and a release at the same time. All that whirled and roared like a hurricane in her was silenced by his touch, by his words, by his acceptance.

“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now,” he told her as their kiss finally found an end.

She only closed her eyes and huffed a bit. Something in her still couldn’t grasp his absolute non-concern about the fact that she had cut open her arms, stabbed herself in her thigh, and bled all over the place.

“I mean it, Em.”

“Hardly,” she breathed out in exhaustion.

But why would he lie, though?

“You see yourself from the wrong perspective.”

Yeah, from the broken beyond anything one.

“You call this mess, perspective?” she scuffed at him.

“I do,ma belle,because from my perspective, you are perfection. You are the air I breathe and the ground I walk on, you are the fire that burns in me and the wind that lifts me up. You are the remedyto my pain, and I’d burn down the world for you, if I must, because I can’t and don’t want, ever, to be without you.”

His words hit her somewhere so deep, they made her and her heart cry. Goosebumps spread over her skin, as no one had ever said anything like it to her. It was heart-wrenching, movie-like, poetic, and made her speechless.

“You grew up believing you were faulty, broken, and wrong.”

Yes, I did. Still do.

“You are anything but. Within you resides a darkness you've endeavored to control your entire life, yet some darkness cannot be controlled – it can only be embraced," he said, gently brushing his hand over her face, covered in by now dried blood. It was so strange, if not crazy.

He values me. He wants me. He sees me. The devil himself is the saint to my broken soul.

“It is not your fault no one saw who you really are. It is not your fault no one valued your existence. It is theirs.”

And she opened her eyes, staring into those piercing ice-blue ones, which right now shimmered in all kinds of arousal, while her heart swelled, carried by a beautiful warmth of being seen for the first time in her life.

“It needs darkness to recognize darkness,” she whispered, repeating the words he told her in her apartment.

“It does.” And he sat himself next to her slightly leaking leg. They stared into each other's eyes, for god knows how long, it might have been an eternity.

“You are the air I breathe and the ground I walk on”his words still resounded in her head.

Damn.

He would be her death one day, but it did not matter, because right now, she had all she ever wanted.

“So, about the knife, does it need to stay in and get you to the ER, or can we risk pulling it out?” he asked her after a while with a smirk, pointing at it. And the way he said it, so causally, totally unconcerned, as if this were a normal Sunday and he asked what tea she wanted, made her laugh. So hard, it resounded all through the bathroom and made her leg hurt. His question was so peculiar, with a bit of humor in it, and it lifted for some reason the heaviness of everything.

He joined her, and for a moment they just sat there, both covered in blood, laughing, living, feeling alive. And when they finally stopped, the silence fell heavy on them again. Outside, the rising sun colored the city a deep pink-orange.

“It can be pulled out, I suppose. I know how to avoid the femoral,” she said with a grimace.

“So, you don’t want to die?”

And he asked so casually again as if he asked about the weather.

“Part of me does. But the most part of me wants to be seen and feel alive.”

It was the most honest answer she had ever given; not even her or the many therapists had gotten this particular truth out of her. And where she usually was rejected, he smirked at her.

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