π“π‘πž πƒπšπ«π€πžπ¬π­ 𝐒𝐒𝐧𝐬

By rosecinc

111K 5.4K 2.2K

"This is the story of how she became the villain." ~ "Noun. noctifer m (genitive noctiferΔ«); second declensio... More

Cast/Disclaimer
~Villain~
~Blue and Green~
~Her~
~New York~
~Stalker~
~Noctifer~
~Fate~
~Privacy~
~Ice cream~
~Not Normal~
~Air & Cigarette~
~Threat~
~Coffee~
~Rain~
~Stella Grey~
~Muse~
~Cloud 9~
~Bullet~
~Entangled~
~Oliver~
~Sin~
~Regret~
~Volkov~
~Lucas~
~Vitamin D~
~Orphan~
~Sick~
~Malakai~
~Gone~
~Pain~
~Bend heaven~
~Free~
~The Plan~
~The Darkest Sins~

~Words~

2K 132 48
By rosecinc

This chapter is dedicated to: @jazzxm10 , @circleimg , @_get_a_life_ , @No_I_Hate_It_Here ,@hawkeye_1505 , @deliliahsas12 , @packfan33,  @endlesstorries , @Imane5777 ,  @BeatriceelenA16 , @chiquita_lipgloss 

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING, COMMENTING, VOTING, AND SUPPORTING!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO FREAKIN' MUCH.

This one is just for you:



Afterward, she lived.

Through all the comfort that was divested,

Through the rose-thorns and violated dreams,

Through the omitted commitments and melancholy bruises,

She endured,

She lived through the seditious denials,

The boundless and fruitless wishes

She existed just so she could be with him in the end,

Just so she could know a tomorrow with him,

Just so she could exist, knowing it was innoxious,

After the endurance and hoaxes,

She lived.

Afterward, she lived. 

~

She danced with him in the dark

In the pouring rain that was like little, destructive bullets,

She danced with him in the ashes, bullet rain, and in the dark,

And not once did blood paint her skin,

But it always painted his,

And he would let the bullets pierce his head, heart, but never his soul,

And he would let the ashes suffocate his lungs, pollute his organs, but never his soul,

And  he would let the darkness blind his eyes, deafen his ears, but never his soul,

Because his soul was only hers to break,

He would allow the world to destroy his body, but only ever allow her to break his whole being because it was always hers to break,

So when he offered it up on a golden stage, he didn't expect her to reject it,

He didn't expect her to say that she would never harm such a beautiful thing,

Beautiful?

His soul was beautiful?

People called him names -monster, devil, hopeless waste...but never beautiful,

So when she refused to break his soul that he saved just for her...he realized that his soul wasn't to be broken...but to be loved...by her.

And so she danced with him in the burning ashes of the world he set on fire but she never let him breathe in a single ash

And so she danced with him while the sky rained bullets, the bullets he fired, but she never allowed him to take any of the hits

And so she danced with him in the dark but allowed the darkness to corrupt both of them

Because she was only his to corrupt,

She danced with him in the dark

And loved every second because she survived for this reason alone,

She danced with him in the dark...



Ariella's POV

He sets my soul on fire

It seems my heart has been pierced by cupid because I have no explanation for the love I feel for him.

I don't understand how I could love so hard and be in one piece afterward. Words can no longer convey the emotion and feelings I have in my heart.

And isn't just in my heart.

It's in all my being.

My mind.

My body.

My soul.

It corrupts me like a plague that I have succumbed to. Aphrodite corrupts me and pushes me -tempts me- in the treacherous pits of his charm. And I have fallen and given in to him.

Whether cupid, Aphrodite...or just my own-self...I am in love with him.

And I don't have an explanation because I didn't know I would ever be here.

This is the first time this has ever happened and I'm not even sure if it's love.

How does one know that they love someone?

Because it feels like I'm constantly high... I'm in a never-ending euphoria that is none other than his doing.

It feels like I'm hanging onto him like he is my life raft and a whirlpool of sins are at my feet, drawing me in but he is the one that keeps me afloat.

It feels like a constant need to make him happy...even if it's without me. It's like I want him to love even if he doesn't love me in return.

Is that love?

Or is love wanting to be selfish and keep someone all to yourself, not letting the world take what you've taken for yourself?

Is love wanting -craving- to be bad as long as your bad with them?

Is love indulging in the dark sins that he makes look so mesmerizing?

Is that love?

Because either way...being selfish or being high...I love him...if that's what love means.

Whether ecstasy, goddesses, cupid's arrow, or my own soul...I am in love with him.

But I blame it on cupid. 

And I think it was love that made me tell him every detail of my past. I think it was love that made me tell him what horrors subsided in Maine. I think it was love that made me cry while I spoke and I think it was love that made me lift my shirt and show him the light pink scar on my hip that I'd cover up with makeup. The scar that the prescribed cream couldn't even fix. I think it was love that didn't make me ashamed of it or didn't make me insecure. It wasn't just love...it was freedom. It was everlasting freedom and air that made him kiss me like there weren't any words to express the emotions. 

I think it was love that made him kiss the scar and tell me sweet nothings that I'll remember for the rest of my life. 

He's my serotonin. My own personal Prozac and Doxepin...

From another point of view, they would have said that I had fallen in love with a monster. 

But when is a monster, not a monster?

When you love it.

Would I be damned if I said I loved him even if he was a monster?

Through everything...he is my monster. And if that makes me a monster...so be it. He might be a sinner and I might be a saint...but we are all damned in the end...but being with him, didn't seem like hell...

No, because monsters knew how to make hell seem like heaven.

And he made it seem like a dangerous paradise. A beautiful purgatory. A lethal bliss of your wildest desires.

Angels would damn themselves for him...and that's exactly what I did.

I sold my soul to the reaper of the night and I don't regret it. And I loved a monster for simply being... a monster.

But he wasn't a monster. 

He was as human as everyone else. 

My Serotonin. 

And I don't care if hell takes me hostage, I will never stop loving him. 

Because I am proud to say that he loves me too. Through the countless times, he'd say it in his sleep, the feeling grew mutual. 

Because he loves me too. 

And we didn't need words to say it. 

~~~~~

Cameron's POV

I don't want her to go. 

Because nothing good lasts forever. One way or another she is going to leave me. One day she's going to realize she'll do far better without me because god knows that she doesn't need me. Or one day the universe will take her away as punishment. They'll let me have my happiness then they'll take her because everyone knows I'll break. She may not need me but I need her like air itself. 

For once in my life, I don't want to die. 

For once in my life, I am happy. 

For once in my life, I am dependent on someone. And I don't regret it. I don't regret loving her. 

Because I have loved her for as long as I can remember. Even when I came to that realization a few months ago, it didn't even shock me. It didn't even shock me that I'd die for her. It didn't shock me that I would give up everything for her. It didn't shock me that I'd do anything she wants me to do. 

I would even give up this life in New York for a fucking 9-5 job if she wanted me to. 

But she wouldn't want that. 

She doesn't want a boring, ordinary life. She wants the excitement, she wants the thrill and adrenaline of holding a gun and pulling the trigger. She doesn't want to settle for an average life.  She doesn't admit but she likes the danger. She likes staying up at night, likes punching a bag. I see it in her face. She doesn't try to change me because she is just like me. She's always been, even before we met. She has always been strong and made for this life, with or without me. She's not scared of the blood on my hands, she doesn't fear me like how everyone else does. She sees me for me and doesn't run. 

But what happens after she leaves?

I know I shouldn't be thinking negatively, but I'm a pessimist. 

Life has always been a "half-empty" thing for me. It's never "positive thoughts" or "things will get better." Because what will happen when things don't get better? You weren't prepared because your head was in the clouds. Why do people dream of better things when nightmares plague real life? Why think of world peace and freedom when rapists, murderers, and corrupt people still roam the earth? I had to face the possibility of things never getting better and face the reality of not being okay. 

Because people like me know what it was like when knowing that things would never get better. 

Orphans like me know what it was like to dream of having a family but still waking up and being alone. 

Criminals like me know that we weren't always criminals. We were human, we were hopeful. Some of us had no other choice. We were trapped, hell we still are trapped. Criminals like me know what it's like to have people look at you with disgust and eventually believing what people said about you. Some of us were still a little human...but the rest-

The rest were incapable of being saved. The rest deserved the hate. 

And for a while, I thought I was among the rest. 

Until I realized that she wasn't afraid and thought I deserve happiness. 

So I can't help but think of the possibility of the worst. I can't help but think that this is all just the calm before the storm. I can't help that this is the drawback of the water before a tsunami. 

"Stop thinking,"

She said to stop thinking because she knew that I was overthinking. 

"You're not a monster,"

She said that I wasn't a monster because she knew that I believed otherwise. 

"I'm yours. Forever,"

She said that she was mine because she knew that I was thinking of the worst. 

"I'm not leaving. I'm here and I always will be,"

She said that she wasn't leaving because she knew that I was hurting myself thinking that she might. 

"I'm happy with you,"

She said that she was happy with me because she knew that I thought that she would want better. Because she deserved better. 

"I love you,"

She said that she loves me because she knew that I love her too. 

We didn't need words to communicate it...because no words could express it. We didn't need to say it to let each other know what we felt. We couldn't put into words how devoted we were. Our presences, long stares, smiles, laughs, and long nights told us all the words that could ever be said. Because actions speak louder than words. 

But saying it out loud made it seem like everything was going to be okay. 

They were nothing but words.

They were the most useless, meaningful words I'd ever say. 





~

(A/N): WD-1948

Harry Styles in the background really sets the mood. 

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