Dark Love

Chapter 22 - Obsession

When we reached my room, he pushed the door open ever so quietly and closed it equally as quietly. I nearly flinched when I heard it lock.

"Logan, we can't do this." I said softly.

"Sure we can." He grumbled, moving us towards the bed. I felt my back hit the bed surface when he dropped me onto it. He stood above and observed me, causing my cheeks to burn into a blush. I maintained my heavy breathing and lifted myself with my elbows and rested on it.

"You are the most beautiful little thing I've ever seen," he said softly, causing my heart to flutter. "I wanna make you feel so good because you deserve it."

"How?" I asked, feeling a mix of emotions of both excitement and anxiousness.

"Do you trust me, Seraphina?" He asked lowly.

I was about to say 'yes' when I paused, not knowing if it were true or not. I did trust him, because he made me feel safe and sometimes so good, but there were his other moments when he scared me so much and I had no idea what to feel.

"Do you?" He urged.

"I don't know." I answered honestly.

"Why not?" He frowned. "Because of my condition?"

What?

"No, I forgot about that." I said truthfully. "It's the things that you do sometimes that scare me and then you say all these soothing words and I relax again. Im confused." I admitted timidly.

It was true. His response to that could go two ways; he could swear at me and force me to trust him or he would assure me that I dont have to be afraid, which is why I was so confused on whether I trusted him or not.

"Babygirl..." He trailed off. "I never wanted you to feel afraid of me."

"Then why do you always do things to make me afraid?" I asked, feeling wetness form in my eyes. Was I seriously going to cry?

"I don't mean to." He says softly. "I can't help it, I don't always have control over my actions." He explained in a rush.

When I didnt answer, he sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. I sat up and crossed my legs, hastily buttoning up my pajama shirt.

"When I was younger, about ten years ago my mom and I were really close. She tried her best to care for me and raise me the right way, even under the harsh influence of my dad. He was the worst, and he was diagnosed with psychopathy in his early twenties, like me."

My heart stilled. Although I knew about his condition, I tried not to let it phase me. But him reminding me like this, brought a new wave of sadness wash over me.

"When and how did you find out?" I asked timidly.

"During my stay in...." He paused. In prison. "About two years ago when they recommended that I go see a psychologist. Me and a fucking shrink." He chuckled. "He was the most annoying cunt I have ever met, always asking me these intrusive and personal questions about my family and how I felt and other shit like that." He said with a scowl.

I almost smiled. "Isn't that what psychologists do?"

"I don't give a shit. I hate talking about myself. I only started to really tell him about my thoughts, experiences and feelings in about our sixth session. After a few weeks he came to the conclusion of psychopathy, but he said that he wasn't sure about it, because I only displayed the symptoms for less than six months and it couldn't have been correct if I hadn't at least showed these symptoms for more than six months."

"Wait...so you're saying that he wasn't sure?" I asked in confusion.

"Yea..."

"Than how do you even know if that really was your diagnosis?"