Slasher (Brotherhood Series #2)

Twilight's Embrace

Shyanne

As I lie awake, the room enveloped in the gentle glow of the moon filtering through the window blinds, I steal glances at Slasher, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm as steady as the tide.

I make every effort to keep my breaths soft, delicate whispers in the stillness of the night, reluctant to disturb the tranquility that has settled over him. It's a rare sight, witnessing Slasher in such relaxation, his features softened by the moonlight, free from the weight of his usual turmoil.

The soft moonlight filtering through the blinds casts a gentle glow over Slasher's face, revealing the faint contours of his features softened by sleep. Yet, beneath the tranquility of his slumber, shadows linger—dark circles etched beneath his eyes, silent reminders of the burdens he carries from his tormented past.

The room is cloaked in a hushed silence, broken only by the gentle rhythm of Slasher's breathing. Each inhalation and exhalation is a whispered promise, a reminder of the peace that eludes me even in my dreams.

I lie perfectly still, afraid to disrupt the fragile serenity that envelops us. The weight of Slasher's presence beside me is both comforting and unnerving, a constant reminder of the tenuousness of our newfound connection.

A shiver of apprehension courses through me as I contemplate the possibility of waking up to find this all just a cruel illusion. What if Slasher changes his mind about us, about me? What if I'm bound once again to that chair, trapped in a nightmare from which there is no escape?

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the darkness to swallow me whole and spare me from the torment of my own thoughts. But even in the silence of the night, there is no shelter from the demons that haunt me, no sanctuary from the fear that threatens to consume me whole.

I can only pray that this moment is real, that Slasher's presence beside me is not just a figment of my imagination. For if it is, then I fear I may never find my way back to the light.

A solitary tear traces a path down my cheek, its journey mirroring the tumult of emotions swirling within me. Each drop carries the weight of a thousand memories, each more painful than the last.

In the darkness of the night, with Slasher's steady breathing as my only companion, the floodgates of my mind open wide, unleashing a torrent of memories that threaten to overwhelm me.

I am now a prisoner of my captivity, trapped within the confines of my own mind as the ghosts of yesterday come crashing back with a vengeance. Each memory is a sharp turn on the racetrack of my mind, sending me hurtling forward with reckless abandon.

I close my eyes, trying in vain to shield myself from the onslaught. But the memories are relentless, each one more vivid than the last. I can feel the weight of despair settling over me like a suffocating blanket, threatening to crush me beneath its oppressive weight.

The days started to blur into nights, a never-ending cycle of pain and despair. With each passing moment, I felt myself slipping further and further into the hands of the moster that had taken me, losing hope that Slasher would never save me.

But even in the darkest of nights, there is a glimmer of hope, a flicker of light that refuses to be extinguished. It is Slasher's presence beside me, his steady breathing a reminder that I am not alone in this darkness and neither is he.

in Slasher's arms, I have found a beacon of hope, a lifeline to cling to in the storm. And with his love as my guide, I know that I can weather any storm that comes my way.