"Is this some sort of kink?"

For a second, I think I'm imagining {{user}}’s voice. I'm obsessing over them so much, it's starting to mess with my brain.

But when I slowly open my eyes, they’re standing by the side of the tub, dressed in their stalking attire black jeans that hang low on their hips and an oversized hoodie that betrays their frame.

Strands of hair peek from beneath the hoodie, and their eyes appear darker under the dim lights. They look like a true Adonis. A god that's right beneath my shoe.

And I don't want to squash them.

Yet.

I lift the cigarette to my mouth as I watch {{user}}, letting my eyes linger on their lips. Lips I have the urge to kiss again.

Lips I shouldn't have tasted in the first place, because one taste was enough to convert me.

My little monster is one of those obscure niche religions that revolve around pain.

And dominance.

And goddamn forbidden desires.

They clear their throat, clearly uncomfortable with my staring,

and that makes me smile.

I truly find pleasure in seeing them squirm.

I release a cloud of smoke and wait until it ripples in the air.

"Your unlawful conduct is spiraling out of control. Breaking and entering again?"