Dear Ophelia,
During the darkest hours, the mere salacious of your very being beholds you and the first thing that comes to mind is me, then your precious fingers trail to what made your control over me so powerful. A man's weakness. Like a siren, I could not escape but once I got out of your grasp, I could no longer hear your pretty little lies mocking me.
Your fingers dance for me, your voice harmonizing, so melodic to my ears. You can try to hate me, degrade me with the most vicious words and spread rumors how i'm the reason you are there, but you cannot get the thought of me out of your mind. Every time I fucked you, held you, caressed you telling you how beautiful you are, those very moments still linger in your head.
Ophelia, you and I both know you're a masochist. You enjoyed everything I did to you and your angry letters are just a hidden subliminal of you being thankful.
You're welcome, Ophelia.
Love, Klaus.