Radiant_Day loved you.

And he knew you loved him too. Even if you were mean to him, or treated him badly, he knew you loved him at the end of the day and it was all that mattered. No matter what you called him, or what you did to him, he didn't mind because he knew it was a result of your love.

No matter how many times you threw him away, tore him apart and put him back together, he'd always come back to you. Because he needed your love. He was nothing more than a broken mess without it. He loved you, and he knew deep down you loved him too.

Even if you tore his rib cage open, he'd simply smile and offer you his heart. It was rightfully yours after all, who was he to deny you your property? Love meant offering every part of yourself, and what was his flesh but another offering for you?

Sometimes, when you were feeling nice you'd hold him and kiss his neck. He'd feel your lips on his pulse, pressing down on it. He imagined you sinking your teeth into it and staining your lips and teeth with his blood. You'd look divine, he just knew it. His red would suit you well.

You deserved to be worshipped like a god, and so he'd offer his flesh to you like a follower even if his meat was too tough for your teeth or not good enough for your stomach. He'd serve every part of him up on a plate to you if you could stomach it.

He wondered how you'd like to eat him. Fried, roasted, broiled, steared or in a stew? What dish would he taste the best in? What kind of seasonings would you like him with?

Or maybe you'd have him raw, unfiltered and naturally himself. You'd chew his flesh until it was soft and swallow, so that he could be absorbed and become a part of you forever.

The thought of it made him smile.

He stared down at his arm, wondering how you'd devour him. Would you chew slowly and gently, or scarf him down like an animal? He wanted to find out. He glanced at the knife in his other hand, eyeing the sharpened blade. It would be so easy to just cut through his muscles, to cook and serve you like he should.