Until You Say Stop

ent but your t

twisting since you cl

pen the voice that s

p like it was carv

always there just wai

ainst the window soft

and stretches

s retreat

like it holds someth

doe

ith half-drawn face

e with one bar

rger n

hat tastes like

bout what i

u

mis

le

the way he sai

tomo

n you'r

o

e at you just drives straight through

girls to men like adr

k wrought iron and

open with

feel

hould

e like a manor o

and symmetry that

engine dies so sudden

he cold slaps you

on't

oward the

on't

re you reach

le slim hair in a knot

ot old

sm

late"

're

on't

sel

k

s away like you're

u

side i

gly n

rf

ror every shadow in

tched but there

just

irs second door on

no offer

ion like yo

climbing

ts make

is too soft too exp

ach the roo

d on the

ect res

it o

in

t real thing in

por

bove the

ini

uti

mistak

very surface. It's beautiful-but not in a comforting way. More like a stage, carefully dressed

inside feel still. The bed is large, larger than your apartment used to be, dressed in cr

e of it

rait above the f

ed, shadowed, made darker like they hold secrets you haven't spoken aloud-but it's you. Dow

emember pos

it's been waiting to hang here for years. Your fingers ache to touch it, to feel t

tant or handler, you don't know what to cal

is stocked. Do not leave your ro

She's not there. Just her voice, traili

nt to

the portrait. How long it'

thing. Because deep d

paint

ed it long b

e sheets are too smooth, untouched. This room is too clean

expectant. The kind of quiet that pr

gold as the portrait, and when you look into it, you almost don't recognize yourself. Your

lass is a single sheet of pa

le

will find acceptable

ak unless

ask a

ttempt t

you answer.

at the bottom, writ

ag

like the mir

that isn't yours. Everything fits your body, not your life. You brush

xposed, ev

ink against your skin. You tie your hair back. You sit again. This t

is. Because there are no clocks. Bec

this is a temporary thing. That you're just buying

l you see is a girl w

es la

otsteps long be

r pressure. The walls seem to lean in. The temperature d

confidently, revealing the man who stood across from you just hours ago an

ri

ck shirt is unbuttoned just enough to draw the eye, his sleeves rolled neatly at the elbows, his watch

d instin

ys no

and just watches you for a full ten seconds. You can f

says finally, voic

The black slip.

on't

s mouth, but with his

low orders this we

you don

ns by a fracti

your body responds. Not because you're weak. Because you weren't expecting it. The rush

into the room. Not quickly. He doesn'

you, and you lose

ice landing right at t

ob

at you

u

the girl in the mirror, sitting perfe

" he murmurs, fingers brushing the

o ask what

ask what h

ad, you s

for him t

s behind you, but his reflection owns the mirror now-tall, composed, a looming storm cloaked in t

tly, "if you even under

. You

on't

ollarbone. Then, he kneels. You feel the shift in the air, the change in h

gain, not to you, bu

ffice?" he asks. "I've been buil

ds hang

slowly. Th

per. But your voice lack

is near your ear, heat radiati

paint under your nails and defi

ried-and rolls back the sleeve on his

brutal. It's not a delicate thing. It's layered. Lines intersecting, symbols

st

atches y

now what it me

u

sn't t

undone, more of him is revealed-tan skin over hard muscle, lean but powerful, a chest carved like marble and dusted with

his ribs. A matching design, larger, more intri

le

reath

lly, the way someone watches fir

mply. "Not because of the cont

trembli

resting lightly on your shoulders

says, not as an accu

you w

nd

here's something magnetic

don't want

t breaks

ck. His lips hover just above your skin. He doesn't tou

na," he murmurs. "And I'll be the

ose yo

them, the girl in

is sitting