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#but i should post again lolol. in a gore mood but i suck at doing gore stuff recently so rip
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You don't understand. I am so in love with you. I need you.
I've cried until my eyes burned and my throat was raw, at the thought of you not being mine, and at the reality that you have no idea how far my infatuation goes. Not even an acknowledgement of the fact. You're just that oblivious, which rides between the lines of being sweetly endearing and frustratingly maddening.
I know society wouldn't approve of it. I know the others would be horrified if they knew, if they found any evidence that pointed to what happened. They'd worry for you. Ridiculous. Only I can worry for you. And I already know, this was the only way. This had to happen. I would've cried harder if it hadn't, I can't imagine it having ended any other way. You don't understand how much I needed it.
We HAD to be together! We were made to be! Why couldn't you notice that sooner?!
I didn't just want to be by your side like a delicate accessory. I didn't just want to spend time with you in the way lovers do on a warm summer night. My love goes deeper, so much deeper, I needed more. You wouldn't have understood.
It was fun, the weeks I had you confined to our own private paradise. Locked away for safekeeping, so you wouldn't escape. But it was torturous to myself, even: keeping myself on edge, denying myself what I truly wanted to do to you. I won't forget how lovely your scared-yet-sensual screams were, the marks I made on your skin; gentle bruises and bloody scars that, I'm sure must've hurt, but nowhere near how much my heart had been hurting for your love.
My heart was racing, my vision blurry, my tongue ached, and I could never not drool from thinking about it. I dreamed of it since Day One, as wrong as most people would presume it was. I've always known my love wasn't content at staying harmless, I knew my love would grow to be more violent. And I knew what I had to do: I had to eat you. Not just in the sexual way, the literal way. I wouldn't—couldn't—be happy until I was chewing on chunks of your soft flesh. Until I spilled your warm blood on my bare body, exciting me and stirring something within. Until I was stripping the skin, peeling it away from tendons and bones, touching your interior as gently as I had your exterior.
So I did, on one particular evening. You poor thing, you had no idea what was coming. I took my time, because it's rude to wildly gobble everything up in one sitting like a starving animal. It took several days, but I did it. I ate every last trace of you left, cutting up your body carefully. Measuring the serving sizes of your corpse, though I did treat myself to a bit more than usual on some days—I just couldn't help myself. The taste, the flavor...
Now there's people wondering where you've gone. It's unusual, it's unlike you, they say. I can only smile innocently and say I know nothing when they ask. They're the ones who don't need to know anything. Why does it matter to them? You're fully mine now, I've made sure of it. You'll never be anyone else's. Ever.
I still sigh happily when I think of it. You have no idea how happy this has made me. You wouldn't have understood. ♥
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