"I'm going to cut you," he whispered against the skin of her neck, his hot breath raising goosebumps. "Here," his index and middle finger ran over the skin where her jaw and neck met softly, right over the jugular vein, "and here." A hand trapped her wrist, his thumb tapping down on the vein that protruded underneath the snowy white skin of the wrist.
She swallowed, closing her eyes, trying to drown the dread that was bubbling up inside of her frail body.
He pulled off of her from where she lay bound to the bed by platinum handcuffs, and reached into the pocket of his blue gray jeans.
The platinum blade gleamed as it caught the light, and Harry flicked his wrist, studying the beautiful, ancient blade. Precious blue sapphires were embedded in the handle of the knife, complementing the silvery white metal - the only metal that could actually pierce her fair skin.
"You love me, though, right?" He asked. Although his voice sounded arrogant and insouciant, there was a layer of uncertainty beneath the façade.
"I love you, Harry, always." Her voice was steady and confident, unlike his, even though she knew what was eventually going to have to happen.
"Good." He smirked, and stepped closer to the bed where she had finally given up her struggle against the restraints. "I love you too, Elsah, so much."
And then, she let out a pained shriek when the sharpened knife pierced her skin.
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