The Perfectionist's Guide To Losing Control の小説・ストーリー

I stammered, closing my eyes with this heavenly feeling. My heart pounded uncontrollably, and my breathing became rough when his hand started to move down, touching my inner thigh. As if my body had a mind of its own, I arched into him, unsure whether to stop his hand or encourage him to continue. Instead, my hands clenched on his hair, allowing me to continue and get drowned in this unfamiliar sensation that was making me lose my sanity.

I place one of Nate's earpieces on, and start his music app, setting it to the song Control, by Zoe. He had made a list of songs on his app so I could listen to them when I felt too overwhelmed. It seemed like a good time to listen to it right now. I closed my eyes, resting my head on his shoulder as I listened to the song. 🎶🎶'Don't know if you get it 'cause I can't express how thankful I am That you were always with me when it hurts, I know that you'd understand I don't wanna lose control Nothing I can do anymore

Damn, can I really control myself? TO BE CONTINUED

I knew this was inappropriate and Chris would be pissed, but I also knew I couldn’t cause a commotion. “What do you want Matty?” I asked him quietly. “Tiffany, you’re being controlled. He’s your sire, he can compel you. Try to break through, baby.” He said in an equally quiet voice. “I think I would know if I were being controlled.” I told him. “You’re not acting like yourself, baby. I know you better than anyone. Trust in me.” He said to me. “I need to find Chris.” I told him as I tried to pull away.

Then, one rainy night, it hit me. My father hadn’t meant the beating of the body, of the physical form. He didn’t mean physical strength or even will. “The best leader is the one that cannot be beaten, mind and soul.” And that was the night that my training started. The day that I became the heir to the largest pack in the world, the day that destiny changed. I spent the next decade training relentlessly, both my mind and my body. Until one night. It was a full moon, a blood moon to be exact. We were celebrating. Everyone was happy, but happiness didn’t end wars.

She whispered to herself and started the ignition. As she merged onto the highway, a sudden realization struck her. ‘This is the perfect opportunity to infiltrate Carlos' home without arousing suspicion.’ The voice in her head whispered. ‘By the time he wakes up tomorrow and recalls the event of tonight, you would have won his trust completely. He can't help but be indebted to you.’ She battled with the thought in her head. Carlos was already a handful but it was true that she had a shot with him. At the next red light, she made a sudden decision and turned the car around, back to the club.

“The thrill isn’t in the kill—it’s in the control. The planning, the watching, knowing that every move they make, every step, is under my control, and they don’t even know it. That’s the real power. The kill is just the finale, the poetic ending to a perfectly orchestrated game.” His words send a chill down my spine. There’s something unsettlingly... precise about the way he talks. It’s almost like he’s describing an art form, something that has to be perfect. I tilt my head, curiosity getting the better of me. “And Jenkins? You’ve only been watching him for a week. How does that fit into your perfectionism?”

The way his whole body seemed coiled, tense, like he was back in that moment? "...Bad enough," he said eventually. "After that, I made a choice. No more violence. No more losing control. I'd spent my whole life being told I had to be perfect. So fine. If I couldn't be perfect, I'd be harmless. I'd shut it down completely. It worked for a while. People started to think I was weak, but I didn't care. I thought—as long as I don't let myself break again, I'll be fine." His eyes darkened, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "Jared didn't think so." My stomach clenched.

“But tell me this—do you think control alone matters? Do you think life is about perfection, about keeping composure while everything burns around you?” Marcus’s smirk widened, almost imperceptible. “Control isn’t everything. But without it, strength is wasted. You may be strong, passionate, fierce… but you lack the patience, the foresight. You throw everything you have at the first obstacle, expecting the world to bend to your will. It doesn’t. Life isn’t a fight you can win by fury alone.”

I stare into the system Watching the shift happen in real time “…It’s not trying to fix the flaws…” A pause My voice drops “…it’s learning how to use them.” And that means We just gave it something even more dangerous Not perfection But controlled chaos