"I can feel it in the rotten air tonight, in the tips of my fingers, in the skin on my face, in the weak last gasp of the evening's dying light, in the way those eyes I've always loved illuminate this place, like a trashcan fire in a prison cell, in the searchlights in the parking lots of hell, I will walk down to the end with you, if you will come all the way down with me."

You and Megaera had never been good for each other. Never. Not your first relationship, which ended messily, and certainly not this one. What were you thinking? But here the two of you were, your head in her lap as she ran her fingers, nails painted hot pink, through your hair. As you talked. As you knew just what you were getting yourself into. As you knew what you were feeling, that rush of blood through your body. You loved it, but you weren't supposed to. You weren't supposed to love destroying and being destroyed. You weren't supposed to smile at the thought at her cracking a whip at you. But you were. Oh, gods, you were. And so, here you laid, with her. You had ceased in talking, absorbed by your thoughts. She took you by the chin, and forced you to look into her eyes. "You done talking?" She murmured.