Page 108 of A Beautiful Crime

My hands tighten to fists. Clenched enough to where my knuckles have gone white.

I could lie to myself. A beautiful lie, as he calls them, of how I don’t ache for the sight of him.

Or of how I don’t crave to hear him roll my name off his tongue.

His tongue.

The first time I have ever kissed a man and I already know with absolute certainty he has ruined all men for eternity.

My lips still tingle with the sensation of him devouring mine. And I have often found myself lost to that kiss. How he kissed me with a tenderness I never thought to be true. A tenderness that awoke more than my desire. A tenderness that resuscitated my heart.

Kissing him felt like coming home.

Being in his embrace I finally felt the warmth I thought only the sun could cast upon me.

In that moment, that tender and passionate moment I felt like I belonged in the world.

That I belonged with him.

That I’ve always belonged to him.

Constantine Donati is not the dark abyss. He is my beacon of light.

And it terrified me.

So I did what I did best. I pushed back. I denied us. More of those beautiful lies spilling from my mouth but tasting bitter on my tongue.

I succeeded in destroying us and I feel. . .sick.

I feel so terribly and utterly alone.

Loneliness.

So this is what it feels like.

With no hunger I push the plate that has gone cold aside.

I stare at the empty seat to my right and a wave of sorrow crashes over me.

I should hate him for it.

Curse the day he was born for breathing life back into me. For giving me the sense of belonging that I have been subconsciously searching for my whole life.

I should hate him.

But I can’t.

I can’t hate Constantine Donati.

It’s a startling revelation.

A rebirth.

Awoken inside I find myself compelled to be beneath the starlight. And instead of seeking for the light to cleanse my soul I bask beneath the night sky.

With my head tilted upwards the smallest smile plays on my lips. One that’s serene. One of acceptance.

I know where I belong now.

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