When he’d walked into the dining hall that night, my heart stopped.

I’d thought it was love at first sight.

Dark curls framed a pale face, black eyes with delicate lashes pulling me in like a siren’s song would a fisherman in the tales my mother told me as a little girl. He smiled when he saw me staring, making me blush, before he turned to talk to Sir Ivan, the man hosting the event. After dinner he approached me. Told me his name as I forgot mine, asked to dance in a voice of honey and stardust. I accepted, my eyes turning into hearts of gold like the one he seemed to have. He twirled me around as he asked me all sorts of questions, laughed at my jokes and listened to my stories. I couldn’t quite place the look on his face, something between adoration and something else, I later realised to be dark obsession.

He told me about himself after, over a bottle of lily wine, the most expensive in the land. To his fortune it was cheap. Ever the gentleman, he walked me up to my suite that night, when I could barley stand on my own two feet, slurring my words. As he supported my weight, I studied his face, all hard angles with soft undertones. Dangerously attractive, as my sister would say. My mind screamed to stay away, but my heart wouldn’t let me, so I stayed. Days, weeks, months passed as we grew closer and closer, time in in which I ignored the gnawing feeling in my gut I later whished I didn’t.

The change came creepingly from behind.

The way he’d grip my arm, digging sharp nails into soft skin, clawing harder if I let it show.

He’d slowly stop listening when we were alone, only paid attention in public.

He acted so innocent.

He proposed on New Years Eve.

Couldn’t spend another year without me.

Pulled out the ring right at midnight.

I declined.

The mask slipped.

Pulled a gun.

Asked again.

No.

Pulled the trigger.

Pulled my heart.

Out of my chest.

Over and over.

From the night we’d met.

To the night I left.

And it’s funny to think,

He’d been so charming at first, sweeping me off my feet and enveloping me in love.

But now, he was no gentleman.

He’d never been.

He was always the hunter.

And I?

I was his prey.

Note: hello my lovelies!

I think this might be the best thing I’ve written here so far :)

If you’d like to see more in this style please let me know 🩶🩶

Also- read with rhythm, it sounds better, trust me.