Page 21 of The Guru: Shadow

It was always an endless game of interacting with humans, pulling their triggers, taking them apart, and seeing what was beneath their curated masks of existence.

“It is. Because you assume I can’t handle you. Because you think me to be what? Fragile? To uptight?”

Bitterness in her voice.

So, she’d already had someone tell her exactly that.

She wiggled herself out of his grip and went for the door. Without another glance at him, she said, “Leave.”

Interesting, her strategy is denial and detachment.

If it would’ve been a bet, he would’ve picked her for the angry tears, but there she was, surprising him again.

For a moment, he rang with himself. He thought about grabbing her, throwing her onto the kitchen counter, and fucking her until she collapsed into orgasm land, but he had no control right now. He probably would do more. The more that would rip her and her soul apart.

So, instead, he went for the door, and when he passed her, he put his hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him. Her eyes had lost their spark. If he’d had a heart, he would’ve felt for her. But he only saw the beauty of what he could do with her. Soon.

It was all about patience and control.

Today is not the day.

“There is nothing you can’t handle,ma belle. Nothing,” he whispered, and kissed her on the forehead before he left.

6

EMMA

PLAYLIST: DOWN ON YOUR KNEES - FLORA CASH

She knew he was dangerous. She knew he was capable of things that would cost her everything. And yet, she wanted him. Wanted to be wanted.

And she knew he wanted her, too. But he did not allow himself. For whatever stupid reasons. Not noble ones, she knew as much. He was definitely anything but a noble man. He was a violent one. And maybe she just wasn’t good enough for him.

For blissful moments, she had felt alive, as if she could rule the world, and then, she was pushed away again. First Chris, now the stranger. And his fucking words as he left were lies. Lies people tell to make themselves feel better, after they hurt someone. And there she was, thinking him to be different.

I should be so glad, it turned out like this. Glad he didn’t destroy me.

Only she wasn’t. All of her longed for him to take her. But he didn’t. What kind of man had that level of control to pull away while she showed him what she would do with him? Only a man she wasn’t good enough for. A man who didn’twant her. Maybe she imagined it all. Just the same poor judge of character she had been with Chris.

Nobody wants me. Not even the devil himself.

Despair ate her alive, and the fucking apartment did the rest. She had sat on the hard floor, leaning against the closed door for the past hour, staring into nothingness. The void that was her life.

And then she stared again into Sami’s eyes as she came home early, ten days ago, because she got fired from the bar. All she wanted to do that day was cry and snug into Chris’ arms until the pain of failure might ebb - only to open the door and see the devilish smile tucked around the corner of Sami’s mouth the moment their eyes met. The flicker in her eyes. She wanted her to find out. The more she rewatched the situation in her mind, the more she revisited Chris’ words afterwards, it became clearer every time.

‘You. Always.’That’s what Chris wrote in the caption of their just-married post. So they had something from day one? Or even before Chris and her had been a thing? But why do it? Why get engaged in the first place? None of it made sense.

Her anger ate her once again from the inside. She had to get fucking out of this dung hole called home.

So, she launched herself from the floor, grabbed a coat, keys, and phone, and went out of the door without a look back.

When she stepped out of the apartment building, she took in the air. Manhattan always smelled so special, especially at night. Yes, loads of waste and smog, but there was also the smell of sweet, endless possibilities. The fragrance of dreams and hope for a better life mingled with the fumes of lost souls and rush. The city so alive and, at the same time, so lonely. While some drowned in money, so many homeless people roamed the streets. The city was the incarnation of polarity - shadows and light.

People rushed past her as she walked down the streets and avenues. Seeing the city alive at night always had something magical to her, even after years of living here. Right now, however, it smelled like a rat’s nest.

Without a plan of where to go, she let herself drift wherever it would carry her. Her apartment was on 45th St, in Hell’s Kitchen, a lively area, and it was always loud, but the Manhattan buzz was imprinted in her existence from the very first day she had come here. Her whole life, she wanted to get out of that small town in Michigan, she so loathed, and she took the first chance she got to leave everything behind. Nothing would ever make her return there. The place where it all started. The place that cost her everything.

She walked where her feet carried her, trying to clear her mind. By walking, she became invisible. Something she loved so much about this city. So many people lived here, and if you wanted, you could become an irrelevant existence within a single moment.