The Perfectionist's Guide To Losing Control 소설 & 이야기

His voice dropped just enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Understand what?” “How this works.” His eyes held mine, steady and intense. “This isn’t about surviving, Mia.”Another step closer. “It’s about control.” The word settled heavily in the space between us. Control. Something I had never had. Something I was just beginning to understand. Something he had mastered completely. I swallowed. “And what if I lose it?” I asked quietly. His gaze didn’t waver.“Then you lose everything.” The answer came without hesitation, comfort, or mercy. But it was honest. And somehow, that made it easier to accept. A soft buzz broke the moment.

“Because you’re not in control.” Shadow flickers around her again, unstable and uncertain. “You think I’m being controlled?” she laughs. “I know you are.” Silence. Because now I’ve hit something. “You gave yourself to it,” I continue. “And now you think it’s making you stronger.” “It is making me stronger.” “No,” I say softly. “It’s making you disposable.” Her control snaps completely. She screams, charges— No strategy. No precision. Just rage. And that? That’s where she loses.

He saw Soren as someone who loved to be in control, Juno smiled and quickly removed the blindfold. Soren's response was cut off by another hard kiss, his lips parting under Juno's as he felt a surge of electricity through his body. He never thought he would be so turned on by someone else taking control but there was something about Juno's confidence and assertiveness that made him weak in the knees. Juno's hands roamed over Soren's body, exploring every inch of him as if he was trying to memorize the feeling. He traced his fingers along Soren's muscles, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

She was in her late forties, sharp-eyed, and unflinching. “Today I want to talk about control,” she said gently. “Lucian, you’ve described fear of loss as the root of your need to manage every variable. Lila, you’ve mentioned guilt around asserting your needs. Let’s start there.” Lucian’s fingers flexed on my thigh. I covered his hand with mine and squeezed. He spoke first, voice low. “I built an empire by controlling outcomes. When I almost lost Lila—when I pushed her away after the miscarriage—I realized my control was poisoning the one thing that matters. But knowing it and changing it are different beasts.”

She didn't know that intimacy with Ian would be as overwhelming as it was at that moment. “You… the only thing I require right now, is you”. She looked into Ian's eyes, who looked like the sex god himself claiming sacrifice at that instant and couldn't help but let her sex flood with juices. As she watched him close his eyes, enjoying the scent of her need. “I think if I don't try you. I'll be going to be crazy”. He opened her thighs wider. She watched as his eyes shone brighter with restrained lust, he was fascinated to see her sex silky and shiny as it was devoid of hair.

“You think you’re building a legacy. You’re not. You’re building a graveyard.” “No,” Corwin replied. “I’m building a future where the strongest don’t need to make excuses for what they are.” “And what are they?” “Tools,” he said. “Made to obey.” I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Because my body was shaking—not with fear, but with rage. This wasn’t about power. It never had been. This was about control. Perfection. And in Corwin’s world, perfection meant silence. Submission. Extinction of the self.

not the version I chose to be. “I don’t want perfect,” I said. The words came out stronger. I want real.” The space cracked. not fully. but enough. because that broke something. Something it couldn’t resolve. the perfect version of me paused. for the first time. because now it wasn’t complete. It wasn’t aligned. It wasn’t right. The white shifted. Violently. because now it was losing control. losing certainty. losing definition. “You choose instability,” it said. The voice sharper now. less certain.

I can’t stand it, can’t stand the fire, the heat, the blaze that takes everything away. I will not give in. I fight with all that I am, the instinct to release everything pitted against the part of me that needs control, needs to stay this side of human. The desperate struggle shreds my senses, rips them wide open. I lose my breath again, each exhale the sound of my weakness. The sound of what I cannot have. Control. It splinters. I shudder with the enormity of the change, the enormity of my failure. I can’t resist it, can’t stop it. My attempts are futile, each more frantic than the last.

“But I swear, Mom, I won’t let this go on forever. That child is a problem, and I won’t let it ruin everything I’ve worked for.” Her mother’s voice was sharp and commanding. “Good. Stay focused, Ava. We’ve come too far for you to lose control now. One way or another, we’ll make sure that baby doesn’t make it. There’s no room for mistakes.” “I know. I won’t let you down.” As the call ended, Ava stared at her hands. She had spent her entire adult life building this image—of perfection, of a woman in control. But now, that control was slipping through her fingers.

It was destined to be one of the most talked-about properties in the world, with a blend of opulence, style, and exclusivity unmatched by any other. But one thing bothered me and it was perfection. The ticking of the clock echoed in the room as I sat, barely moving, staring down at the documents on my desk. There was nothing wrong with the numbers—everything was perfect on paper. But perfection on paper wasn’t enough for me. I picked up my pen, idly tapping it against my finger, before letting it rest in my hand. Slowly, almost absentmindedly, I pressed the nib against the back of my hand, watching as the ink began to soak into my skin, dark and thick. The sting was sharp but satisfying. Pai