You were born bluer than a butterfly
Wish they didn't cut your wings off.
Drown me in that Blue, will you?
"You should've killed me when you had the chance." I breathe out, my knife a mere centimetre away from his neck.
"Why? So, i could lose my chance to admire art from this close." He says, his breath hot and heavy against my ear. Goosebumps trailing across my body as I supress a shiver.
"Where did you pick up that line from? Google?"
I ask, a smirk maring my face as I hide behind my perfectly crafted mask that tends to somehow crack under his intense gaze. Trying and failing to ignore the fast rhythm of his heart under the palm of my hand.
I am heavily conflicted with whether to rip his eyes out of their sockets or to stare into them until I gasp and beg for air before the blue in them drowns me.
If I were to die, i would hate love to die that way. To drown myself in that perfectly cold yet welcoming blue hue that seemed to hold a fire hotter than the sun.
If only we weren't on the opposite sides of fate. Maybe i could feel alive while breathing too, instead of thinking longing to about drown drowning.