My Immortal — Evanescence
 
 I wake up to music playing from the gramophone on the other side of the room. Winona sits at the wooden desk, sketching something that has completely captured her attention.
 
 I glance at the wet glass, welcoming another gloomy day, before dragging my hands over my face.
 
 “Ouch,” I mutter when metal slaps me against the eyebrow.
 
 The handcuffs dangle from my wrist, and I take the key from the drawer and shove it into my pocket.
 
 My eyes follow the crumpled sheets to my right, where a note lies on the mattress.
 
 Choose: You or him.
 
 I drop my legs off the side of the bed, pushing myself up.
 
 Even though my steps are soundless, I feel like I’m walking with a million cinder blocks on my shoulders as I cross theroom. She doesn’t look up from her sketchbook. I know she is dissociating the only way she knows how, translating the pain, confusion, and denial into art.
 
 Her art.
 
 Because this belongs to her, even if the world around her falls apart.
 
 I stop just an inch from her chair and lean over, my eyes following the strokes of her pencil, which tell the story of a little girl holding her breath underwater, her hand outstretched, waiting for someone to yank her out or join her.
 
 I lower myself to the floor, crawl under the desk, and kneel beneath her crossed legs.
 
 I’ll mop all her frustrations with my tongue.
 
 “What are you doing?” Her sweet voice drifts to me, laced with curiosity and a touch of desire.
 
 I slide my hands along her thighs, letting my body heat soothe her soft skin, and slowly uncross them. I place her legs on my shoulders and adjust her around my face.
 
 “Reeve…”
 
 Yes, say my name, Baby.
 
 Her soft gasp hangs in the room’s atmosphere, harmonizing with the music from the gramophone. I’m tempted to bite, but instead I run my tongue along the inner side of her thigh, teasing her sensitive skin with kisses and nibbles.
 
 A loud hum slips free, matching the groan I let out.
 
 I move to the other thigh, giving her the same treatment.
 
 Fuck, I could do this for hours. Just tease her and leave small bruises of love on her skin to last for days. I can hear her voice shuddering, echoing, breaking from the pleasure I create within her a lifetime and again. This is the side of me that doesn’t need taming. I’m the one in control. With her, this is where my darkness shines the brightest.
 
 I’m a man who has been forced to live in the shadows, behind a dark veil of the real world, but being with Winona was my escape from hell. I’m still a killer, and I will kill again. I’m neither good nor bad, just somewhere in between, I guess. I have my reasons.
 
 Her legs clamp around me, begging me to slip inside her heat, but instead, I sink my teeth close enough to her center to make her whimper in frustration.
 
 Her fingers dig into my hair, tugging at the roots, demanding my attention.
 
 When I look up, her lips curve into a seductive smile.
 
 I grin against her wet underwear and press my lips to her pussy to give her a kiss before I pull away.
 
 She seems to have forgotten that I’m the one in charge.
 
 I crawl out from under the desk with an amused smirk, go around her chair, and lift myself from the floor. I turn off the gramophone because the only sound I want to cherish is the one we make.
 
 Winona gazes at me with her dilated pupils and short exhales.