Her Obsession. Novels & Stories

“I’m not after the boy or you, it’s just… “Oh really? And you want me to believe that?” “You didn’t invite me for the dress design did you? You only invited me so I can became your slave who you can easily have sex with any time you want and pay her off with some dollars? Well I’m rich now and my libido is dead” she bawled again. “I am rich too and trust me, you are not taking this boy away from me” “No! No! Yeah that’s it” “That’s what?” “I want us to start all over” he said and Heather chuckled.

He wanted to see her blue eyes so closely. He had missed her. He so wanted to hug her badly. After almost loosing her, he vowed to never let her out of his sight. He vowed to protect her and put his life on the line for her. That's how much he loved her. He could be kind for her, he could kill for her. His love had madness in it. It had both passion and Obsession in it.

I knew certainly that she was wondering why the heck I was suddenly being calm with her. She nodded her head, continuously as she replied, “Yeah, anytime. Whenever.” So, why can't it be as easy as this? Why can't she let me claim her and get her out of my fucking system? Was it my determination to claim her, and to make her believe that I always got what I wanted that made me so obsessed with this girl I thought would be a one-night stand? This isn't right. I, admitting that I was indeed obsessed—getting this mad because a girl wanted to cut ties with me, just wasn't right.

************************ “ I can't just explain what happened to me! Am I dreaming, or is this reality? Did I just sleep with Damon? A beast? Amelia muttered to herself as she perched on the edge of her bed. She already wore her night dress, which looked like denim. She looked so weak and frustrated. “Is this how I've thrown myself into an endless pit? How can I survive this? So now, I'm his sex pet? Not just the embarrassment and torture I receive from him. Now, Amelia is a sex pet!” She mumbled to herself. She sighed and began to scratch her head. Just in a few moments, tears began to roll down her chin.

I couldn’t even explain to myself why I’d done it. I hated Rhea. I spent every waking moment thinking of ways to make her life hell. But the second Camilla’s mouth opened to talk shit about her, something inside me snapped. It was territorial. Primal. An instinct I couldn’t control. I could treat Rhea like trash. I could break her. But nobody else got to say a fucking word about her. The realization hit me like a freight train: I was obsessed. Completely, mind-bendingly fixated on this girl in a way that was messing with my entire existence.

Still, she worked with quiet skill, wrapping her hand neatly before exhaling softly. Her eyes met her reflection in the mirror. She gave herself a small nod—she could handle pain. She always had. When she stepped out of the bathroom, exhaustion washed over her. Her stomach growled loudly. She hugged herself; she hadn’t eaten all day. She went to the kitchen only to find nothing left for her—as usual. With a tired sigh, she picked up a stale piece of bread and a small juice box, then walked quietly back to her tiny room. Robert trudged up the mansion steps, shoulders slumped, his face drained of color. As he reached the entrance, his steps faltered. He swayed dangerously.

Neither is obsession. What does she mean by that? And why is she doing this? Fuck, is she playing with me? I rolled onto my side, the sheets cold against my skin, but it didn’t help. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Every time I tried to calm down, her voice echoed again—calm, low, deliberate. Neither is obsession. It wasn’t just a statement. It felt like a confession. I groaned softly, dragging a pillow over my face. “God, what are you doing to me?”

Should not have to do anything. Just can not be quiet knowing that she is with some problem, I do not know what it is. That is suffering, because if something made this woman cry, it means that it is a very ugly thing. I wish it was something silly, like a PMS, but I’ve been living these days for years and I know Nicole doesn’t get emotional. She becomes a terrorist. Now I miss this side of you. Would do anything to have it now, because I found out that I hate this side even more. I don’t know what to do with it.

she whispered, the title now a conditioned reflex. He walked towards her, stopping just inches away. He reached out, not touching her, but tracing the air near her cheek. “I can still see the tear tracks even through the new makeup.” His finger finally made contact, brushing a strand of hair from her temple. The touch was electric, possessive. “Good. I want the memory of that desperation to stay with you. It’s your fuel.”

Suddenly a scent rushed into my nostrils and I felt dizzy and lightheaded. I looked at him again and felt an intense attraction to him. I gasped. This couldn't be. There had to be some kind of mistake but there was none. The Goddess never made a mistake. I whispered under my breath, loud enough for only the both of us to hear. "Mate..."