And that was it. This beautiful person, this angelic creature, made her want to fall to her knees and beg for affection.
She slammed her glass of ice--minus the tea that was already warming her cheeks--on the table with a mental shout of NO! She’d submit to no man, nor woman. She knew it was likely a strange mental condition but the idea made her feel like less of a person. No, she would be in control. She would claim her playthings and make them beg for her and no one would ever possess her, heart, body or soul, ever again.
And with this, came a strange calm, a dark confidence, that wrapped her in its cool embrace. She’d left her gothic armor behind tonight in exchange for civilian attire, but, with this feeling, she’d never need it again.
Listening to Concrete Blonde- Darkening of the Light
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