Page 267 of Obsession

It wasn’t what… it was supposed to be.

It was two angel wings similar to mine, with a letter sitting between them:

K

Blockage.

And nothing else.

“Oh, my God…” I stuttered.

He giggled, then kissed me on the cheek.

“Oh, no,” he suddenly jumped, startled, “Don’t even think about crying,” he scolded with a raised index finger.

I started laughing and struggled to hold back the tears.

“Why?” was all I could ask.

Was I dreaming?

Probably.

“I told you,” his face softened, “you’re different, I want everyone to know you’re mine, but I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

It was impossible for me to suppress my tears. He sighed deeply, quickly wiped the tear away and took my face in his palms.

“I love you, Katherine, and you have no idea what love means to me. We’re so different, baby, but I know how I feel.”

“We’re not that different,” I smiled, rubbing my nose against his, which made him giggle like a little boy.

“Yes, we are, baby. You’re an angel and I’m a demon, unfortunately, not just metaphorically.”

“But I’m not a nice angel,” I raised my eyebrows.

“Good, because I want a wild one,” his eyes darkened before he kissed my lips and pushed me backwards with the force of the kiss.

I laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck.

He stood up with me coiled around him, then he led me back to the mattress, pinched my butt, and ran off before I could return it. I liked this playful side of the demon, even if my skin didn’t like it so much.

Harris was truly bipolar, and I found his bipolarity absolutely delicious.

He returned to the desk, winked at me, and then focused on his work.

He pulled on the surgical gloves, the black rubber material molded perfectly to his hands and slid against his wrist with a sharp slap, then began preparing the ink. He looked so professional, like a real tattoo artist who was very good at his job.

“Did you tattoo yourself first?” I asked, as he checked the drawing again.

“Yeah, this was one of the first,” he showed me some text written on the inside of his left arm.

One of the first, not the first. Maybe he didn’t remember the first one, or maybe he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

I squinted and tried to read the words, and Harris lifted his arm so I could see better.

“Everything has a beginning and an ending. “

I recognized the quote immediately.

---