“Are you really in a position to—”
“You fucking psychopath,” I scream.
“Monster.”
“You wear it like a badge of honor!”
“Calm down.”
“Leave!”
“So, I take it you’re no longer cleaning up after yourself?”
How FUCKING dare he!
I launch my fists into his chest, again and again, trying to hurt him. But he’s hard as stone, and I’ll only manage to bruise myself if I continue.
“It’s for your own good,” he says in a deadpan voice. “You traded your freedom for a life of comfort. You get to help rebuild the world.”
Tears threaten to spill down my cheeks, but I don’t want him to see me cry.
“You would have died out there,” he reasons.
“Go.”
He gets off the bed and disappears without another word, leaving me to swallow the bitter pill alone.
And even though I told him to leave, I miss the feeling of being in his arms.
Because nothing has ever felt as good as being with my monster.