KATLYN
I stood in his bathroom, looking at my reflection, or more specifically, looking at the bruise darkening the side of my throat. There were two to be exact. One from the clûb and then another from Zurich when he had almost lost it in the forest.
My fingers reached up to touch it and I pressed on it lightly. It didn't hurt much, there was only a soft ache, a sweet pain. But what had me enthralled was the fact that Zurich probably left this mark on me because he didn't want me to have someone else’s marks on my person. Like he hated to see it and was jealous of it.
And it filled me with more conflicting thoughts because I liked it. I have no idea how could I when my mind gets triggered every time someone hurts me but apparently it doesn’t care much when it’s Zurich or a man punishi
