Page 57 of Whispers of Obsession

But the seconds tick by, and still there’s no reply. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, a sense of loneliness so profound it threatens to swallow me whole.

Defeated, I crawl into bed, the tears streaming down my cheeks as I hug my pillow to my chest. Sleep eludes me, my mind consumed by thoughts of Slater and the gaping void his harsh absence has left in me tonight. Eventually, exhaustion overtakes me, and I drift into a fitful sleep, my dreams haunted by his face and the sound of his voice echoing in the darkness.

24

MM

Ifreeze in the doorway, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. The dim moonlight filtering through the curtains casts an eerie glow over the room, illuminating her sleeping form.

She looks so peaceful, so innocent.

I clench my fists, trying to steady my breathing as I take a step closer. The floorboards creak beneath my weight, and she stirs, murmuring in her sleep. I hold my breath, praying she doesn’t wake up.

But she opens her eyes, her gaze meeting mine with confusion and fear. I reach out a trembling hand, my voice barely a whisper as I say her name. Her eyes widen in recognition, and then I see the fear in her eyes turn to realization as she recognizes me.

Well, the masked me she’s come to fear and crave in equal measure.

Poor Cora. Always trying so hard to be a good girl. She doesn’t know that that’s not even what I need from her tonight.

I’m out of control. Crawling in my skin and desperate for an outlet. I’m hurting, needing to hurt, needing…something.

Cora. I need Cora. She’s the only one who can bring me back from the brink of insanity right now.

She scrambles back against her headboard, eyes wide with fear and confusion. The streetlamp outside her window flickers, casting dancing shadows across her face as she watches me approach.

I can see the questions forming in her mind, the same ones that always arise when I show up uninvited in the dead of night.

She’s trembling now, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she searches my masked face for any hint of what I might do next.

But there is no plan, no calculated move on my part tonight. I am a storm unleashed, a tempest of emotions and pain that only she can temper.

As I reach out to touch her cheek, she flinches, but doesn’t pull away. And in that moment, I know she understands. She sees past the mask, past the darkness that surrounds me, and into the heart of the broken man standing before her.

With a soft sob, she reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it tightly as if to anchor me to this moment, to reality. And for the first time in what feels like an eternity, I let myself be held.

Cora’s touch is like a lifeline, grounding me in the midst of my turmoil. I sink to my knees beside her bed, the weight of everything I’ve been carrying crashing down on me.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I lean my forehead against her trembling hand, seeking solace in her warmth. It doesn’t matter. She can’t see my tears through the mask. I won’t let them fall, won’t reveal any weakness to her.

She doesn’t speak, knowing that there are no words that can ease the storm raging inside me.

Instead, she simply sits with me in the darkness, her presence a balm to my shattered soul. The minutes stretch into eternity, but I don’t move.

I’m a bow pulled tight, ready to snap. An arrow ready to fly and unleash destruction and pain. I’m barely holding on, shaking with the effort of holding myself back.

I know tonight I’m going to cross a line, and I’m desperately trying to stop myself, knowing that in the morning Cora will hate me, that I’ll hate myself even more, but also accepting that if I don’t cross that line with her tonight, I’ll do something even more reckless and dangerous, something I can’t take back or make right.

With a snarl, I shove Cora’s hand away from my masked face, standing abruptly from the bed. The sudden movement startles her, and she recoils, fear flashing in her eyes once more. But I am beyond reasoning, beyond the grasp of sanity at this point.

The mask I wear is not just a physical barrier; it is a shield to protect her from the darkness consuming me.

Turning my back on her, with a violent gesture, I tear at the mask, ripping it up to reveal my tortured soul beneath. My chest heaves with ragged breaths as I remain turned away from her, unable to bear the shame of my own vulnerability as I tear at my clothes until I’m naked.

Then, unable to face her, unable to face what I have become or what I’m about to do, I reach for the mask and pull it back down into place. The weight of my actions is already pressing down on me like a leaden shroud, suffocating me in guilt and self-loathing. But wearing the mask makes it somehow slightly more bearable.

I click my fingers, pointing to the floor at my feet without words, and Cora scrambles to comply, easily reading the turmoil and tension rolling off of me in waves.

As soon as she’s standing before me, I shove her to her knees roughly, even though she was about to kneel of her own accord.

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