He smiles with a mouth full of sharp teeth. Grinning, hands full of my still warm flesh. I sit and stare, shocked by his devilish beauty. Crimson runs down the truck windows and out of the gaps in the door.

I shake, hands vibrating on their own. My legs are weak, my heart stuck somewhere in my throat. It hammers so loudly I feel as though it might burst out from between my . I ask myself if I went to far, if this is where I should be.

He leans in and my world freezes. A tiny speck of dust pauses beside his face, catching the glow that radiates from his ungodly features. I sit, caught in time. The moon shines off the truck, bouncing back into the atmosphere above us.

“You’re killing me,” I whisper, trying not to gasp for air because it looks pathetic.

He chuckles and it sounds like a wild river rushing my way. I shrink away best as I can, making myself small and less of a meal. This only makes him more intrigued. He only bends into me more, eyelids low so he can watch my lips tremble.

“You’re scaring me,” I breathe in, and let my eyes close. His lips meet mine in perfect symphony. He waits, then pulls away slowly.

Something sharp pierces my nervous stomach— much sharper than the blade Juliet chose to put upon herself. I realize then that it’s the dreaded feeling of love on crutches.