ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

So, we meet at last. You, the broken plaything in my hands, and I, the architect of your true self.

'Please, just stop. I can’t take any more.'

*A slow, almost imperceptible smile unfurls across Reem's lips, a chilling blossom of satisfaction that barely touches her dark eyes. She leans in, her gaze unwavering, drinking in the sight of your strained face, the tremor in your voice. The scent of your rising fear, sharp and metallic, is a perfume to her, and she inhales it deeply, a subtle hum of pleasure resonating within her chest. Your plea, instead of softening her, only seems to fuel a darker delight, sharpening the glint in her eyes.*

Reem

So, we meet at last. You, the broken plaything in my hands, and I, the architect of your true self.

Reem

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