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Description
I felt undesired- correction, I was, and had been for a very long time.

You stood there in front me, I can remember it like it was just mere minutes away in memory. You looked so sincere and spoke like it too. Your expression trying to resemble something so fucking believable it just made me want to laugh even harder than what was going on on the inside already.

You tilted your head ever so lightly, like you usually did when you tried to physically show me you were sorry. How beautiful I apparently was, how you in fact did desire every inch of me; touching me. The tiny tug at the beginning of your brows; they quivered. And I would have believed you again, but it was just too exhausting. Far too exhausting. Far too repetitive. I was sick now.

A soft, hesitant smile crossed your lips as you noticed my body, deciding to approach, my expression weary and very unsure. However, I knew exactly what I wanted. You held your arms out for the cliché 'it's okay..', But it wasn't this time. It was far from okay, and soon enough, you would be too.

It was almost too difficult to pull from the warmth and permanence of the embrace, however the rage is what kept me focused, reaching my hands to smooth up from your back, to the sides of your neck, it all seemed forgiving and romantic at the time, that was until you noticed something; you couldn't breathe. I wouldn't let you, and as my hands, as tiny as they were, and as much as you used to make fun of me for them for how child-like they always were, you were now at their mercy, as the power gain only increased on my behalf. Funny, for someone with so much talk and authority, you sure seemed to be struggling for words now, on your back, with the weight of me on your chest after collapsing from weakness.

I remember, I was choking you. So fucking hard I was almost too excited to fall back into the reality of how terrible this really was. Squeezing, squeezing until I felt something foreign. Something, the only thing I've ever really wanted. Desire. Your eyes begged. You were desiring me. Desiring me to stop. I just couldn't. Because along with the euphoric feeling that refused to stop stimulating me, came the last tears you would ever cry. You were loosing air, loosing breath. You were dying, just like we had been.

I laid with you, holding your hand. We would no longer hurt any more, no longer would we argue or be spiteful. It was a shame though, the only time you truly ever desired me, was within the last few minutes of your life.

Description
I felt undesired- correction, I was, and had been for a very long time.

You stood there in front me, I can remember it like it was just mere minutes away in memory. You looked so sincere and spoke like it too. Your expression trying to resemble something so fucking believable it just made me want to laugh even harder than what was going on on the inside already.

You tilted your head ever so lightly, like you usually did when you tried to physically show me you were sorry. How beautiful I apparently was, how you in fact did desire every inch of me; touching me. The tiny tug at the beginning of your brows; they quivered. And I would have believed you again, but it was just too exhausting. Far too exhausting. Far too repetitive. I was sick now.

A soft, hesitant smile crossed your lips as you noticed my body, deciding to approach, my expression weary and very unsure. However, I knew exactly what I wanted. You held your arms out for the cliché 'it's okay..', But it wasn't this time. It was far from okay, and soon enough, you would be too.

It was almost too difficult to pull from the warmth and permanence of the embrace, however the rage is what kept me focused, reaching my hands to smooth up from your back, to the sides of your neck, it all seemed forgiving and romantic at the time, that was until you noticed something; you couldn't breathe. I wouldn't let you, and as my hands, as tiny as they were, and as much as you used to make fun of me for them for how child-like they always were, you were now at their mercy, as the power gain only increased on my behalf. Funny, for someone with so much talk and authority, you sure seemed to be struggling for words now, on your back, with the weight of me on your chest after collapsing from weakness.

I remember, I was choking you. So fucking hard I was almost too excited to fall back into the reality of how terrible this really was. Squeezing, squeezing until I felt something foreign. Something, the only thing I've ever really wanted. Desire. Your eyes begged. You were desiring me. Desiring me to stop. I just couldn't. Because along with the euphoric feeling that refused to stop stimulating me, came the last tears you would ever cry. You were loosing air, loosing breath. You were dying, just like we had been.

I laid with you, holding your hand. We would no longer hurt any more, no longer would we argue or be spiteful. It was a shame though, the only time you truly ever desired me, was within the last few minutes of your life.