Are Psychopaths Capable Of Love Novels & Stories

Czar suggested. "I don't feel any emotional attachment to him for being my captor. At least not as far as I know." She caught her mouth. "What if I'm exhibiting signs of psychopathy?" "That's too much, considering your behavior I've observed so far." "Sociopathy then?" "I'm not a psychiatrist. But I can call one." "Thank you. I'm worried about my own behavior." "I'm sure it's not either of that."

I struggled to get up and grab my phone, but he smacked the back of my hand with a hammer. The intense pain made me scream and seize up. My hand went out of shape—the bones were probably shattered. I struggled to get away from him, but he stalked toward me. "Do you know how much I savored the days of you stepping all over me, my queen? Why did you have to ignore me?" he asked manically. He was a psychopath and a complete freak! "I already told you I was asleep during the day!" I cried. "You just wanted to ignore me! How could anyone sleep for a day and night?" Marshmallow gripped my jaw tightly; I couldn't speak due to the pain. All I could do was pray the police would arrive soon.

This time, she left everything to the God of her life and death. Dita turned around slowly out of fear, she closed her eyes. "Don't look down, raise your face," the guy took out his gun again, and raised Dita's chin with the gun. Making Dita almost pee her pants. "Don't kill me, I promise I won't tell anyone about this, I promise." Dita raised her two fingers to form a peace sign, with a terrified expression, her eyes still closed, not daring to open them. The guy was a little stunned at Dita's beauty, he felt his blood rushing violently, his heart was also racing faster, like he liked it? But, it's impossible for a psychopath to fall in love, right?

Did he ever love the pack or did he just want the power? Shaking my head, I got rid of the thoughts as we entered the dining room and I sat where I normally sat while Raymond wouldn’t stop smiling at me from where he was. Suddenly, he placed his hand on mine on the table and I tried my hardest not to flinch like I did the other day because he still gave me the scares, he killed people without batting an eyelash so he could do the same to me and he would easily get over my absence because psychopaths don’t love. They only believe that they do.

"And I'm supposed to be impressed?" He smiled again. "Well, aren't you? It's not every day that you meet a guy who can be sexy as well as handle the sight of guts and a severed head without throwing up." "I would say the men who are disgusted by the sight of it are actually normal, while you are quite the contrary," I said. Jackson laughed again. "Psychopaths are actually pretty normal." He said grinning and then added, "Sometimes. A psychopath can be a loyal husband and a lover, a good father and everything that you dream about. Just don't peek into their basement."

"Perfection has become my obsession. My body is a victim, school was an escape, my brother a balance." "I don't understand, you like your brother too much." My voice comes out without much conviction, but all I can think is that someone with sociopathy is not capable of having feelings. She clicks her tongue. "He's always been here." ''How?'' I ask, looking away from the window again. I just need to find a way to let go. "Unlike psychopaths, sociopaths can empathize and develop feelings, however... It can be a dangerous game," she explains.

It happened often when we were younger, he would blatantly tell anyone who gets close to me that I was a psychopath, and then curious kids will come with questions… disturbing ones. It annoyed me a lot back then, because controlling myself was difficult, but now I have come to terms with things, and people’s mockery don’t bother me anymore. “You are right, I don’t have the ability to feel love or love someone.” I confessed. “But isn’t that the same for you, hopping from one girl to another, fucking a different one each time—I mean even I could do that. But it’s such a pity you couldn’t make it in for my wedding.”

“You’re just like him, your father. Created in his fucking image and likeness.” I roll my eyes, already tired of this conversation. Same shit, different day. “Why do you love me, then?” I ask, genuinely curious. “Why are you still fighting for us?” She lets out a breathless laugh. “To be honest?” Her lips quiver. “I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m in love with a sociopath.” She rubs her temples. “It’s a fucking conundrum.” I smirk. “Oh, so now you’re being indecisive?”

I tense against his form, feeling extremely uncomfortable and unsafe within his hold as Jack rests his head in the crook of my neck. "I love you." Jack whispers. I feel my breath get stuck in the back of my throat as I listen to him speak. I know Jack doesn't love me. He can't love me. Could a sociopath really be capable of expressing love? Or is this just some sort of sick obsession? Tears begin to well up in my eyes as I allow my dark thoughts to consume me. I release a small breath in preparation to speak as I feel the warm liquid slowly glide down my cheek.

It's not worth giving everything for someone like that. —I have a very different perspective of her than you do. —Care to share it? —I looked forward again. —She's someone who pretends to be someone she's not because she simply doesn't know how to deal with her traumas, because she doesn't understand how our emotions and feelings work. That scares her... —I wish I could believe you, but she's a psychopath and you've developed Stockholm syndrome. Don't you see that? —Don't you see she suffers in her own way? Don't you do the same? She's not... what you say. She may have other mental disorders, but a psychopath can't develop feelings for other people or even care about someone. That's not thei