Slanted Perfection

He stared at her. At her pale face, looking so hopeful, so innocent, and after asking for that. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt the blood gather, his pants suddenly constricting. He was quiet for a moment. No one thinks anything if a girl asks her brother to walk back to their house together, but she knew exactly what she was doing. He knew exactly what was going to happen when he positively rushed to get his coat at her word.

He supposed that he should feel some measure of disgust, but as he felt her fingertips lightly treading downwards, his eyes rolling in the back of his head, his hands roaming over her skin (—so warm, so smooth, so doubtlessly alive!) he found that he didn’t much care.

He took a certain pleasure when they awoke, and he felt the stinging cuts on his back where her fingernails had made him bleed, and felt her swollen, cracked and bleeding lips kissing the marks, their blood mingling, and thought— this is perfect.

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