Page 79 of My Dark Divine
So, what happened that night? She was drunk, yet somehow, she seemed more sober than ever. It was as if she had stripped away her pretense and revealed a genuine interest in me. I was completely taken aback by what she started doing. She touched and kissed my scars as if I weren’t an ugly piece of shit, but rather the most beautiful thing she’d ever encountered. She told me that she saw me and that she was proud of me.
Fuckingproudof me.
I thought I was hallucinating when I heard that word. It’s something I’ve longed to hear my entire life but never received. It didn’t feel like she was mocking or humiliating me; it felt genuine. Frankly, that scared me more than anything I’ve ever experienced. I trembled like a leaf in the wind, and I’m sure she felt every quiver that coursed through me.
I couldn’t stop it.
At that moment, I stopped being an adult and became the child I once was, before my dad tore everything pure out of me and shattered it. She practically stripped me bare, peering deep into my decayed soul.
And the memory of her gaze, so vulnerable and soft before me... It seemed like she was ready to accept whatever consequences her little games might bring. I’m sure she didn’t even realize how big everything she was doing to me was until it was too late.
If I had shrugged her off and walked away, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t be sitting here like an idiot, endlesslythinking about my feelings and what to do in the future. It had been a long time since I thought about things like that. Cocaine, alcohol, and the occasional torture and murder had dulled my emotions, and I was perfectly fine with that.
But she keeps me sober, conscious, and fucking alive.
I love it as much as I hate it. Part of me wishes I could split her open to see what she hides within her soul, to understand what has shaped her into who she is, and to requite like for like. I thought she’d helped Chloe get her ass kicked simply because she disliked her. But when she finally revealed the real reason, I genuinely considered getting high and forgetting it all. It felt like a mirage, a fleeting glimpse of goodness in a never-ending desert.
Yet, she felt so warm in my hands—so real, so fragile, so beautifully desperate. No drug can ever replace that. She’s the woman who fucks with my mind better than anything I’ve ever consumed.
The one who saw me through.
I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t fucking breathe the longer I postpone the inevitable. Being alone is killing me.
So I think it’s about time I confront her and have a proper conversation.
“Have you seen Venetia around?”I ask, trying to shout over the awful pop music blasting through the speakers. I fucking hate loud parties. But Venetia is here, and I can’t stay away from her any longer.
The guy I asked shakes his head, his half-open eyes staring at me like I’m an alien. The place is packed with sweaty bodies,the heavy scent of alcohol and chemicals hanging in the air. Most people are drinking and dancing; some are snorting and smoking, while others are making out right on the tables.
I’m going to kill Venetia. This isn’t like her—she prefers quieter settings. But if we’re talking about her behavior lately, it’s clear she hasn’t been acting like herself for a while. I don’t know what’s going on with her, but I’m determined to find out and drag her out of here.
First, I need to locate her. I shove my way through the crowd, not bothering to be gentle or cautious. Driven by urgency, I jostle people when they move too slowly in front of me. I can’t fucking stand it when someone walks ahead of me at a snail’s pace. It makes me want to knock them out and walk across their bodies.
After about fifteen minutes of searching the first floor, I find nothing but a bunch of high idiots who can’t even recognize her name. I doubt anyone here is capable of recognizing each other at this point. This is some rich jerk’s house from their HR management team, a name I didn’t bother to remember. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s wealthy and thought it’d be a good idea to buy a large house with dozens of rooms for people like these irresponsible idiots to get high and fuck.
A fucking kip-house.
I make my way to the second floor, swinging doors open and shut. By the fifth door, I seriously consider buying some bleach after everything I’ve seen. People are tangled up on top of one another, beneath each other, and in every position imaginable—some even holding more than two at once.
Bracing myself for the worst, I swing open the sixth door, and when I catch a glimpse of the perfect face that haunts my dreams, I exhale in relief. The worry I felt dissipates as I see her sitting in a chair near a neatly made bed, with no sign that anyone else has been with her.
Good. She’s learned that if she pulls any shit like that again, I’ll kill the fucker.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she asks as I close the door and step closer. “How did you know I was here?”
I shrug, as if I needed to be a genius to connect the dots. “I’ve killed for you, baby. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to find you?”
“Since when did you start stalking me?”
“Since now,” I reply, sinking onto the mattress across from her. “What are you doing in a place like this?”
Her brows furrow, and she rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed by my question. The room is dim, with the moonlight casting soft rays through the curtains, illuminating her pouty face in a perfect turquoise hue. “I went out to socialize,” she finally says.
I give her a questioning look, then glance around the empty space, raising my arms in the air. The corners of her mouth twitch as she fights back a smile. “Yeah, I see that. Nice try, what can I say?”
“I needed to go somewhere my responsibilities wouldn’t catch up with me,” she admits, her voice dropping to a whisper. “To think.”
“So, what have you thought about?”
