I can still feel the tips of his fingers digging into my skin. The look in his eyes was predatorial, like he couldn’t decide whether to kiss me or consume me.
I couldn’t decide which I’d prefer more.
But instead of playing into his games, I pulled away. There’s something about Ghost and I that fits too perfectly. Like we’re broken pieces from the same mirror. Our jagged edges are sharp and despite fitting like a puzzle; we’ll end up cutting each other if we get too close.
He’s dangerous and I’m dangerous, though I’m not sure who is more than the other.
But that’s the problem.
Wes was a perfectly smooth puzzle piece. The kind you see hanging in the little shops on a keychain. The man didn’t have a jagged edge. He couldn’t have hurt me if he tried.
But we’re not attracted to perf
