She was curled in Dustin's arms like a frightened rabbit, her body trembling delicately. But behind those wide, tearful eyes, triumph glittered like a blade catching light.
Dustin bowed his head and wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, his touch impossibly gentle. He stroked her hair, slow and tender, as though she were something infinitely precious.
What a perfect couple.
What a magnificent love story.
The blood kept flowing, dripping onto the floor one drop at a time—a libation poured in honor of their magnificent love.
My screams faded to nothing. Not because the pain had stopped, but because I had nothing left. My lips were bitten through, my throat shredded raw. All that remained was the ragged sound of my breathing—like a fish gasping on dry land.
"Mr. Delgado, she—she's badly hurt." Someone spoke up, hesitant and uneasy.
Dustin finally lifted his head and looked at me. He saw it—the horrifying blood, the split flesh of my forehead.
"Just apologize," he said after a pause, something unreadable flickering through his voice, "and I'll let you go."
I stared at him and the woman in his arms. Every syllable cost me everything I had left.
"Over… my… dead… body."