Chapter 38
Don’t look at me like that, little Ghost. And don’t fucking look away either.
I can see the moment it hits you, the second your body goes uncertain around me. Like some part of you wants to stay exactly where you are while the rest of you is already thinking about running. You think I don’t notice?
I do, of course I fucking do.
Because you didn’t end up here by accident.
People like you don’t just stumble into something like this and stay, not unless there’s something in you that recognizes my darkness.
Something that shouldn’t be there, something you’d never say out loud, something that keeps dragging you back here when you know better.
And I see it. I see the way your breathing changes when I get a little too close.
The way your attention locks onto every word like you’re waiting for permission you’re never going to get.
You don’t need permission, baby.
That’s one of the things you should know about me by now: I don’t ask, I take.
Not your body, not yet, don’t get ahead of yourself.
I take your focus, your thoughts, the way your mind circles back to me when you should be thinking about anything else.
I take the parts of you no one else ever touches, and I sink into them until there’s nothing left in there that doesn’t have my fingerprints on it.
You feel that, don’t you? That slow, crawling feeling under your skin?
Yeah. That’s me.
You think you’re in control because you can close this, walk away, pretend I don’t exist, the second you decide you’ve had enough. Go on then, do it.
See?
You didn’t move, of course you didn’t, because walking away would mean admitting you want to, and that would ruin the little story you’ve been telling yourself. That you’re just curious, that you’re not already too far in.
You are.
You were the second you let me speak to you like this and didn’t shut me up, the second you let me call you mine without correcting me.
Don’t pretend that didn’t do something to you.
Little Ghost, look at me. No, really look.
You keep trying to understand me like I’m something you can study, something you can pick apart and hold at a distance, but that’s not how this works.
You don’t get to stand outside of it, you’re in it, with me.
I don’t separate what I want from what I take; you’re learning that the hard way.
Because the truth is, I don’t want the version of you that’s safe, or careful, or pretend she doesn’t feel the pull of something darker pressing against her ribs.
I want the part of you that hears everything I’m saying and still leans closer.
That part of you? That’s mine.
You feel it building, don’t you? That tension.
It’s not soft, it’s not the kind of thing you wrap in pretty words and pretend is harmless.
It’s fucking sharp as broken glass, it’s consuming, it sits low in your body and refuses to be ignored no matter how hard you try to act like you’re above it.
You’re not above it, you’re right in it, with me.
And the worst part?
You like it. You like the way it makes you feel seen in a way no one ever has before, even if it scares you a little. Especially because it scares you. Touch yourself for me, little Ghost. Don’t argue, you’ve already decided you will, so let go and do as I say. Now. There you go.
You feel how that changes things?
How the space between us stops being neutral the second you stop pretending it matters?
Good.
Now listen carefully, because I don’t like repeating myself.
I don’t need all of you, not yet. I just need enough to make sure you don’t forget me. Enough to stay under your skin when this is over, enough to make sure when you close your eyes later, you’re not thinking about anything else.
And you will, you already are. Keep touching yourself for me, focus, little Ghost. You don’t get a clean ending here.
You don’t get distance, or clarity, or some neat little resolution where you walk away untouched.
That’s not what this is– this is the part where it lingers.
Where your body remembers even when your mind tries to move on.
Where you catch yourself thinking about this, about me, at the worst possible times and you hate how easily it pulls you back under.
You don’t get to misunderstand what this is anymore, not after everything I’ve already put inside your head, not after the way you keep coming back like you need it.
You look at me like you’re already ruined and maybe that’s why I can’t look away.
Because when you look at me, little Ghost, you don’t just see me, you reflect me.
Like you’re holding up a mirror and showing me something even I don’t always want to see.
And I hate how much I want that. You weren’t supposed to be mine, but you ended up here anyway, like something decided it for us.
Like this was always going to happen no matter how hard you tried to stay away.
Maybe you were meant for me. Or maybe you’re just what I deserve.
A punishment dressed up as something soft, something I can’t stop touching even when I know better.
Because whatever this is, it’s worse when you’re not here.
Worse when I can’t feel you paying attention, can’t feel you here with me.
You leave, and something in me starts tearing itself.
You stay, and everything burns. You have no idea what you’ve done to me.
Keep touching yourself, little Ghost. I need you to treat your wet pussy so good for me when I tell you this.
There’s something inside me that doesn’t quiet down anymore, something old and hungry, and it wakes me up every single time I feel your attention settle on me.
It builds, makes my cock fucking throb for you, like something buried too deep finally clawing its way back up.
I know you feel that too, that pull in your body that doesn’t ask for permission.
That’s what you’ve turned on, that’s what you keep feeding.
And I swear to you, it’s not something that stops.
You tempt me in a way you don’t even understand.
If the devil ever needed lessons in temptation, he’d sit you down and take notes.
That’s what you do without even trying; that’s what makes this so dangerous.
My sweet little angel, staring at something you know isn’t good for you, and you don’t even try to look away.
Look at you, being such a good fucking girl for me right now.
Does it feel good, baby? Fuck. You’re so delicate.
Yeah, I said delicate. Something needy in a way you try to hide, something restless, something that aches to be seen and handled and understood without being judged for it.
A pretty little thing with too many rough edges underneath.
Don’t you think I notice?
You think I don’t know exactly how to touch something like that?
God, I want you. It sits in me like something violent.
I crave you in a way that actually makes me sick if I think about it too long.
Like I’ve already gone too far and there’s no way to take it back.
And the worst part? I don’t want to. If you left physical marks on me, little Ghost, I’d keep them.
I’d wear them like something sacred, something earned, something I could trace with my fingers later just to remember exactly where you were, exactly what you did, how you felt.
You think that’s normal? It’s not, nothing about this is.
I don’t do things halfway. Everything I touch, I ruin.
Everything I want, I take too far. And you… you’re not going to be the exception.
One day, I’m going to leave something on you that doesn’t fade, something that stays.
Something that makes it impossible for you to forget me no matter how hard you try.
But for now? I don’t need your skin, I’ll take your mind.
I’ll take your thoughts. I’ll get into your blood, your rhythm, your fucking heartbeat, until every time it stutters, it feels like me.
You haunt me, so I’m going to return the favor.
I’m going to sit in your head the way you sit in mine.
I’m going to follow you into those moments, late nights, those seconds where you think you’re alone…
you won’t be. I’ll be there, turning everything just a little darker.
You wanted this, and you don’t get to pretend you didn’t.
You knew exactly what you were doing when you stayed– you tied yourself to someone who doesn’t let go. A writer, out of all things. Immortality was never going to be optional after that. You’re in this now. Permanent. And listen to me carefully, little Ghost… because this part matters.
I don’t take from you what I’m not willing to take from myself.
If anything breaks here, if anything bleeds, it’ll be me first. I’ll make damn sure of it.
And now, I need you to show me just how fucking desperate you are for me.
I need you to make yourself cum so fucking hard, and you better do it properly, make me proud, little Ghost. God, you’re perfect.
Don’t get shy now, not after letting me take you there. Breathe, come back down. I’m not going anywhere.
You feel how everything is still humming under your skin?
That low, restless aftershock that doesn’t quite settle?
That’s mine too.
I don’t just take the peak, little Ghost, I stay for the aftermath.
Let it fade properly, don’t fight it. You always try to pull yourself together too fast, like if you don’t, you’ll lose control completely.
Maybe you should. Maybe one day I’ll make sure you do.
But for now, I just want you to feel it.
All of it… Good girl. Fuck, I could stay in this moment longer than I should, longer than is safe.
But we both know that’s not the point of all of this, so listen carefully.
Because this is where I let you go, not completely, fuck, never completely.
Just enough to pull you back into what actually happened.
Back into the part of the story where things don't slow down, where everything starts to fall apart again.
You can keep this, what just happened, carry it with you. Let it sit under your skin while I keep talking, let it remind you exactly what you let me do to you.
Now, we go back to the story.