Chapter 57: The Taste of Madness
Josie
I couldn’t remember how it started.
One moment, Kiel’s lips were brushing against mine, soft and careful, and the next, I was drowning in the sensation. His hands moved with a reverence that made me ache. Our bodies tangled on the bed, heat blooming between us like fire spreading on dry grass. We didn’t cross any lines—no sex, not even close—but we didn’t need to.
His hands roamed over my back, under my gown, stopping just before the edges where things could go further. I stopped him, breathless, pressing my palm to his chest.
"I want this," I whispered, "but not all the way. Not tonight."
He didn’t protest. He only nodded, kissed my forehead, and pulled me into his chest. We lay there, tangled, skin touching skin, hearts beating too fast.
That should’ve been enough. It should’ve felt safe. But it didn’t.
Sleep came in fragments. One moment I was drifting, the next, I was wide awake, staring at the ceiling like it was made of flesh. I blinked, and suddenly, my parents’ corpses were everywhere.
On the ceiling.
On the floor.
On the damn dresser.
Blood oozed from their lips like syrup. Their eyes, unblinking, bore into me with judgment, with sorrow. My mouth opened in a scream I didn’t make. I shook, the panic tightening around my chest like a belt.