Chase
I love Grace. I captured every detail of her like an artist. Her eyes are the most extraordinary thing about her.
They remind me of clear glacial lakes. Her face still holds a childlike innocence because her heart has always carried more love than hate.
Grace doesn’t know how to be evil. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.
Her hair has grown darker. She smells like a summer breeze, sweet scents mingling with blooming flowers and a hint of rain.
In my imagination, Grace dances barefoot in a meadow, wearing a light spring dress, colorful butterflies fluttering around her.
Her dark hair is threaded with tiny white flowers, crowning her head like a tiara.
She is the queen of butterflies. Enchanted, she watches as insects drift from flower to flower.
And I watch her from far away… Because all of it is only a cruel trick of my mind. A mirage.
Her smile is radiant, her laughter carefree, her eyes glittering like crystal-clear seawater.
The sky is a flawless azure, not a single cloud in sight. Sunlight sends a warm, pleasant tingling across my skin.
I pull my T-shirt over my head and walk toward her. She can’t fly away, she can’t run, because this isn’t reality. It’s only an illusion I created—because in my dreams, she can be mine. And I want to become one with her on this flower-strewn meadow, scattered with yellow and white daffodils.
My butterfly is doing better when she’s free.
She accepts her fate and leaps into my arms. Her dark hair is bright and soft like silk, golden sunlight dancing through it.
Her waist curves delicately, and her long, fragile legs wrap around me.
Her soft thighs hold me close—I feel the fine hairs on her skin.
Her lips are pink and delicious, making her kiss feel like balm against my skin.
Her flower-bright eyes capture me. They say nothing, only ask in silence.
Her gaze tells me what her mouth is afraid to say.
But I understand. I will take on the role of the sinner so she can remain pure and innocent in the judgmental eyes of the world.
I’ve been obsessed with her since the first moment I saw her.
The feeling burns through me.
My heart aches whenever she’s not with me.
No matter how hard I press my palm to my chest, the pain doesn’t go away, doesn’t fade.
And I don’t want it to leave, because that would mean the end of something.
But there is still a chance. There is always a second chance, even for those who make mistakes.
I made a mistake when I let her slip through my fingers.
But this time, I’ll be smarter. Grace is no longer a child.
I don’t have to kidnap her—rip her from the world—to bind her to me.
She’s a grown woman now, and the girl I fell in love with is still inside her, hiding behind the anger and hatred.
But she must accept that she belongs to me.
My eyes glide over the drawing. I trace her long thighs and brown hair with my fingertips.
There is nothing I regret from the last few years, because I love her with an obsession.