Page 114 of Hunted By Valentine

With tears streaming down my face, I choke out the words through gritted teeth, “End it… end me.” My plea hangs in the air like a dying breath as I wait for his response, willing to do anything to escape this torture.

He loosens his grip, and for a moment I think he might actually let me fall, let me crumple to the ground where the cold and hard reality can take me as its own. But then his arms encircle me with a gentleness that nearly breaks my already shattered heart.

“Pet,” he whispers, and the single word is a caress, an apology, a refusal all at once.

“Please,” I sob, my face buried in his shoulder, soaking his shirt with my despair. “I can’t do this anymore. The pain—it’s too much. You can make it quick.”

He clutches me with desperate strength, as if he can will the life back into my limp body. “I can’t.” His voice cracks like a whip, the sound of something deep inside him shattering into a million pieces. “I can’t lose you.”

I hold my breath, feeling a spark of hope ignite within me. Is he finally going to say the words I deep down long to hear?

He takes a shaky breath. My heart races in anticipation, but just as I think he’s about to confess his love, he shakes his head. “Is that your last wish? That I be the one to deliver the final blow?”

“Y-yes,” I confess. “You were hired to kill me, and I lo—”

“Don’t say it!”

I stubbornly ignore his interruption. “I love you, Valentine. I’m in love with you. Why is that so hard to hear?”

The silence that follows is suffocating, a heavy blanket of unspoken emotions and painful truths. Every second stretches into an eternity as I wait for him to respond, to react, to do anything other than sit here holding me in this fragile, contradictory embrace.

“I never meant for this,” Valentine finally says, his voice a ghostly whisper. “For any of this.”

Of course he didn’t mean for this. He was a professional, cold and calculated, never letting emotions interfere with his work. I was supposed to be just another job, a quick and clean execution. But here we are, in this twisted purgatory of our own making.

“Then finish it,” I say more firmly, pulling back to look into his eyes. They are stormy and conflicted, a sea of turmoil. “If you never meant for it to go on this long, then do what you were supposed to do from the start.”

He closes his eyes as if trying to block out the world, as if by not seeing me he can make the decision less painful. I study his face, memorizing every line and angle, knowing this might be the last time I ever see him.

The spark of hope that had briefly flared in my chest flickers and threatens to die.

When he opens his eyes again, there’s a steely determination in them that sends a chill through me. I don’t realize he isn’t holding the knife until he reaches for it, jolting us both with the movement. The blade catches the dim light, a flash of cold silver that makes my breath hitch.

“Valentine,” I say, my voice trembling. “Kiss me. Just once. Please.”

He hesitates, the conflict warring within him plain on his face. Then, with a slow and agonizing tenderness, he lowers his head toward mine. His lips brush against mine but instead of pulling back, he deepens the kiss. His tongue delves into my mouth with a desperate hunger, as if trying to consume the very essence of who I am.

Time collapses in on itself, and for a brief, searing moment, all the pain and fear dissolve into something achingly sweet.

When he finally pulls away, my lips are numb and my heart is a wild, caged thing in my chest. I can taste him lingering, a bittersweet residue of what could never be. He looks at me with an intensity that borders on feral, like a man on the edge of losing everything he holds dear.

“I don’t know if what I feel for you is love,” he begins, confusing me with the abrupt change. “It’s more like an all-consuming fire that rages within me, burning every thought and desire until there’s nothing left but you. You invade my dreams, your smile etched into my mind like a brand, your scent intoxicating and unforgettable.”

He pauses, inhaling sharply.

“You want to know if I love you, I know you do. But no, what I feel for you is beyond love. It consumes me from the inside out, a fierce wildfire that cannot be tamed. It’s an all-consuming force, one that cannot be ignored or denied. Is that love? No, it’s something much more intense and powerful.”

My body shakes with sobs, tears cascading down my face in a never-ending stream. My throat constricts, and I struggle to choke back my words through the overwhelming emotions coursing through me.

“It-it’s love,” I manage to gasp out between hiccups, my heart wrenching with both joy and pain at the realization.

“Perhaps you’re correct,” he ponders. “But if that’s the case, it’s a cruel twist of fate to expect me to end your life.”

Despite his words, he moves so he’s half in front of me, shielding me. Then he raises the knife, resting it against my throat.

“D-do it,” I beg. “It has to be you.”

His intense gaze never wavers from mine as he applies more pressure, causing my eyes to flutter closed. I focus on the feeling of his breath against my skin and the familiar touch of his hand, seeking comfort even in this terrifying moment.

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