My Beautiful Madness

Super Psycho Love

I see him. I always see him. Even when I close my eyes, he's there—etched into my mind, burned into my skin like a phantom touch I can never quite grasp. The way he looks at me, the way his eyes darken, the way I can feel the weight of his stare even when he thinks I don’t notice. He wants me. I know he does. So why does he keep playing this game? Why does he keep making me wait, keep making me burn?

He flirts, he teases, he acts like I’m just another girl he can charm and toss aside. But I’m not. And he knows I’m not. So why does he do it? Does he like watching me go crazy? Does he like knowing he has this power over me? Because if he does—if he really knows how badly I want him—then he’s just as twisted as I am.

Tomorrow, I’ll touch him. Just a brush of my fingers against his skin, just long enough to see how his body reacts. Just long enough to see if he’ll finally drop the act and give in. I want to see the way his breath catches, the way his lips part slightly, the way his pulse jumps beneath my fingertips. And if he pulls away? If he acts like it doesn’t matter? Then I’ll push harder. Because I refuse to be ignored.

I want him. No—I need him. I need him the way I need air, the way a drowning person gasps for breath. I need his hands on me, his lips against mine, his body pressing me down like he can’t stand the space between us. I want to make him crazy. I want to be the only thing on his mind, the only name on his lips. I want to ruin him for anyone else.

And May? May is too far away. I don’t want to wait. I can’t wait. Every second without him feels like torture, every glance he throws my way is another drop of gasoline on the fire. He’s going to be mine. Whether he knows it yet or not.

Is this love? Is this obsession? Maybe it’s both. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Because when I look at him, when I imagine what it would feel like to finally have him, nothing else exists. Nothing else matters.

He’s mine. He just has to stop running.

I will have Artur .

-Onnaya