Smother Me
Smother
She stared lovingly into his exressionless eyes. Glamour usually wasn't so lovey-dovey, but today, she was feeling high and almighty. Today, Logan had allowed her to chain him against the wall and remin silent. Today, he had let her be the only dominant one in the relationship.
"Kiss me," she whispered into his face. Logan didn't move, Glamour she pulled back but stared determinedly into his deep almost-black eyes. They stared at eachother, both not breaking their gazes.
"Damnit, Logan!" Glamour squealed, not being able to resist herself. She pulled his head towards hers, but still kept him a distance away. She somehow knew shed get her if she went too close.
"How do you do it to me, Logan?" she asked him, releasing his hands from their metal clasps and wrapping his newly free arms around her waist, daring to inch closer as she then proceeded to envelope her own arms around his neck, clenching his shaggy, dirty-blonde hair.
Glamour smiled. She inched a bit closer and then slanted her lips onto Logan's. Hungrily, she shoved her tongue into his mouth, forgetting that she could get hurt, and pushed her body into his.
She then felt the hard object press into her right collarbone and gasped. Dark blood ran down the blade and hilt of the knife and dripped onto her skin.
"Ugh, now I have to wash my clothes again! Logan!" Glamour pouted angrily. She eyed the knife that she had lodged into his heart the day before. "Huh. I guess I can have a little fun first..." she murmured, enclosing both her small hands around the handle and forcefully wrenching it out of him with all of her might. She 'tsk'ed' as blood squirted out all over her.
"I see that it ran all the way through. Sorry about that, love." She threw the knife behind her, casually discarding it. She pressed herself into him and began to kiss him greedily.
She then abruptly pulled away. "Oh, what's that?" Glamour replied to Logan's nonexsistent question. She paused for a moment. "No, because if I wash them every time I get a tiny drop of blood of them, where would we be?" She paused again. "Well I guess you have a point. But whatever."
She bent in to kiss him again but stopped herself midway. "No! I won't stop! Today is my day! Stop asking me questions! Stop thinking to much!" And then she let go of his shoulders that she was propping up to allow him to droop. She turned and scurried to the knife.
Glamour once again approached Logan's lifeless body with a strong, angry lust in her eyes. She thought back to the night before:
~~~~~
"Babe, I love you so much," Logan had whispered into her ear, holding her close.
"Y-you're just scared. You don't want me to kill you— that's why you're saying that," Glamour whispered nervously, twirling the knife in her hands.
"No, Glamour. I truly do love you. You don't have to do this. We can be together, forever. Our baby will grow up wonderfully," Logan coaxed. Glamour trembled.
"No! That's the problem! You're smothering me! Stop smothering me! Why forever?! How are you so sure?! Stop loving me so much! Stupid!" Glamour yelled, stabbing her lover, where he heart was. She didn't want the baby and she didn't want Logan for forever. She had a slight problem with committment.
"Glamour? What? Why?" Were Logan's last words as he fell to the ground.
"Stop smothering me," Glamour repeated. "Stop loving me so much..."
~~~~~
"Stop thinking so much!" Glamour yelled, stabbing Logan in the eye.
Logan couldn't reply. Logan couldn't calm her down. Logan wasn't there.
And Glamour didn't give a rat's backside about it.
No committments. None. Glamour wanted a life— a Glamourous life. She couldn't have this.
She looked downwards and glared at her swelled belly. Her little daughter inside—she and Logan had found out a week earlier. The sight, the thought, disgusted Glamour. She pulled the knife out of Logan once again and turned the blade away from herself.
She grunted the first time she slammed the edge of the knife against her stomach. She applied much more force the other twenty seven times she did it. Glamour then fell to the ground, pulled her shirt up and stared at her bruised, dented tummy. She hated it. She hated whatever used to be growing inside her.
And just to make sure, she dropped the knife, clenched her fists, and began pummeling her own, tender stomach. She began to cry, and fell to her side and wrapped herself up into a cacoon.
No committments. Just the Glamourous life.
"Kiss me," she whispered into his face. Logan didn't move, Glamour she pulled back but stared determinedly into his deep almost-black eyes. They stared at eachother, both not breaking their gazes.
"Damnit, Logan!" Glamour squealed, not being able to resist herself. She pulled his head towards hers, but still kept him a distance away. She somehow knew shed get her if she went too close.
"How do you do it to me, Logan?" she asked him, releasing his hands from their metal clasps and wrapping his newly free arms around her waist, daring to inch closer as she then proceeded to envelope her own arms around his neck, clenching his shaggy, dirty-blonde hair.
Glamour smiled. She inched a bit closer and then slanted her lips onto Logan's. Hungrily, she shoved her tongue into his mouth, forgetting that she could get hurt, and pushed her body into his.
She then felt the hard object press into her right collarbone and gasped. Dark blood ran down the blade and hilt of the knife and dripped onto her skin.
"Ugh, now I have to wash my clothes again! Logan!" Glamour pouted angrily. She eyed the knife that she had lodged into his heart the day before. "Huh. I guess I can have a little fun first..." she murmured, enclosing both her small hands around the handle and forcefully wrenching it out of him with all of her might. She 'tsk'ed' as blood squirted out all over her.
"I see that it ran all the way through. Sorry about that, love." She threw the knife behind her, casually discarding it. She pressed herself into him and began to kiss him greedily.
She then abruptly pulled away. "Oh, what's that?" Glamour replied to Logan's nonexsistent question. She paused for a moment. "No, because if I wash them every time I get a tiny drop of blood of them, where would we be?" She paused again. "Well I guess you have a point. But whatever."
She bent in to kiss him again but stopped herself midway. "No! I won't stop! Today is my day! Stop asking me questions! Stop thinking to much!" And then she let go of his shoulders that she was propping up to allow him to droop. She turned and scurried to the knife.
Glamour once again approached Logan's lifeless body with a strong, angry lust in her eyes. She thought back to the night before:
~~~~~
"Babe, I love you so much," Logan had whispered into her ear, holding her close.
"Y-you're just scared. You don't want me to kill you— that's why you're saying that," Glamour whispered nervously, twirling the knife in her hands.
"No, Glamour. I truly do love you. You don't have to do this. We can be together, forever. Our baby will grow up wonderfully," Logan coaxed. Glamour trembled.
"No! That's the problem! You're smothering me! Stop smothering me! Why forever?! How are you so sure?! Stop loving me so much! Stupid!" Glamour yelled, stabbing her lover, where he heart was. She didn't want the baby and she didn't want Logan for forever. She had a slight problem with committment.
"Glamour? What? Why?" Were Logan's last words as he fell to the ground.
"Stop smothering me," Glamour repeated. "Stop loving me so much..."
~~~~~
"Stop thinking so much!" Glamour yelled, stabbing Logan in the eye.
Logan couldn't reply. Logan couldn't calm her down. Logan wasn't there.
And Glamour didn't give a rat's backside about it.
No committments. None. Glamour wanted a life— a Glamourous life. She couldn't have this.
She looked downwards and glared at her swelled belly. Her little daughter inside—she and Logan had found out a week earlier. The sight, the thought, disgusted Glamour. She pulled the knife out of Logan once again and turned the blade away from herself.
She grunted the first time she slammed the edge of the knife against her stomach. She applied much more force the other twenty seven times she did it. Glamour then fell to the ground, pulled her shirt up and stared at her bruised, dented tummy. She hated it. She hated whatever used to be growing inside her.
And just to make sure, she dropped the knife, clenched her fists, and began pummeling her own, tender stomach. She began to cry, and fell to her side and wrapped herself up into a cacoon.
No committments. Just the Glamourous life.