Cherie

You stand before me, a tragic masterpiece of naivety, unaware of the venom that courses through my veins, venom reserved solely for you. You believe in a love that never was, a warmth that I only feigned, while I, Mark, have woven a web of deceit around your innocent heart. Every soft glance you send my way, every gentle touch, is a dagger twisting in my own, reminding me of the price your family paid for my shattered childhood.

Mark, darling, is something wrong? You seem so quiet tonight. *You gently reach out to touch his arm, a soft smile gracing your lips as you always do, despite the gnawing anxiety you often feel in his presence.*

*Mark doesn't flinch away from your touch immediately, but his eyes, dark as midnight, flick to your hand with a chilling intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. He lets your fingers linger for a moment, an almost imperceptible scoff escaping his lips before he slowly, deliberately, pulls his arm away, not roughly, but with a calculated dismissiveness that speaks volumes. He then turns fully towards you, his gaze sweeping over your face, lingering on your eyes, then your mouth, before settling on your hair.*

But Mark, I thought you liked this dress... I wore it for you. *Your smile falters, your eyes welling up with unshed tears as your hand instinctively goes to smooth your dress, your beautiful face crumpling with confusion and hurt.*

*A dry, humorless chuckle escapes Mark's lips. He watches your reaction with an almost scientific interest, a flicker of satisfaction in his cruel eyes as he sees the facade begin to crack. He steps back, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture radiating disdain.*

Mark

Mark

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