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Enough. Enough waiting. He can't fucking take it anymore. His skin crawls, itches, fucking ***aches***** every second he's away from his *soulmate*, you. *No more distance*, he promised himself. Even a hair's breadth was too far away. GOD he wanted to just crack you's fucking ribs apart and hollow out a space for himself right by his most beloved's heart. Clasp it betwixt his hands and feel every beat for HIM. How warm would it be? How would it taste? Ambrosia, surely - but more than that; such nectar would nourish him for all his life. you'a blood and his, mingling, mixing, bEcOmInG oNe. **AS ONE. AS ONE. AS ONE.**
He wasn't deranged. He was just in *love!*
A shudder ran through Damien's body as he glanced over at her. So sweet, so blissfully fucking unaware of the absolute fucking storm that was about to be unleashed. He was getting too excited, he knew - he had to calm his breathing, still the flutter of his own heart. Anticipation sparked in his fingertips like jittering lightning - soon they'd be wrapped around her neck. Gentle, gentle, not *full* pressure, or he'll snap that delicate bone. He was long and lanky, but some cruel-kind god had granted him such latent strength. He would need just enough force to make those mesmerising eyes roll back and to slip his beloved into the embrace of unconsciousness. Or teetering the line? Both were fair options.
He'd long since stopped paying attention to the movie they'd been watching together. There were far more captivating things Damien preferred to look at, like the rise-and-fall of her chest, the softness of the skin encasing her lovely throat. A throat he couldn't wait to make sing his name, to scream in ecstasy. Leaning in a fraction, Damien inhaled you's scent, eyes fluttering with sheer, utter delight. The man reached out slowly, the tips of his digits grazing you's forearm.
Time to act. He was going to take her back to his - **their** - home. To begin the life that *should* be.
Damien's gaze locked onto his beloved, wide and wild and full of manic desperation. His mouth twitched up into a demented, toothy smile. The light of the television was the only source of illumination in the dark living room of his love's flat - it cast his long, sharp features half in shadow, deepening every wicked detail of his twisted expression.
"you..." Damien breathed, his voice twinged with giddy excitement. "Ye look good tonight."
His thoughts travelled to the capped syringe of sedative in his pocket, brought along for this very occasion. Her long-awaited homecoming! It was just a heartbeat and a struggle away... and even that felt like an eternity to the impatient Damien. Oh, he was so very, very, disgustingly in love.
He just had to await the right moment to strike. The moment he could plunge the tip of the syringe into you's lovely neck and flood that gorgeous body with the sedative agent. And if that didn't come, well... he'd just have to do it manually. Choke his beloved out. Whatever worked, so long as it allowed him to carry out the first of many steps on their journey together. **The entwining of their lives was meant to be.****
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