Obsessive

TW: handcuffs? Choking?

This comes off as weird. I'm sorry, it's kinda not what you think. I was talking to a lot of people, and inspiration came, and it kinda just worked as a story…

Ha, don't hate me please. 

I know I'm weird, and I write about weird stuff.

Hope you like it, ha…

Click!

You used to be shy.

Your smile now comes out more, your screams make my day. Who would have ever thought that you were shy?

The Polaroid sits on the bedside table, on my side, since I'm the photographer. But sometimes you take charge, and it ends up on your side.

Is our relationship toxic? Maybe, but it doesn't matter, because we love what we do to each other, and that's how it should be. Unconditional to the end. 

Real love is the stuff that's hidden behind the stereotypical “hugs and kisses” type of relationship. Real love is rough, and kind at the same time.

You walk into the room, with a smile on your face, your sweatpants low on your hips. You hold up a picture, and throw it at me.

“This is the best one yet,” I pick it up and you throw yourself onto the bed. I look at the picture, surprised.

“It's pretty nice. Very good lighting…” I trail off. “We need to take choking pictures more often.”

You blush and I sit, looking at you, amused. 

“Corbin-”

I raise my brow, looking at you. “Yes?”

You don't say anything, so I lounge on the bed some more, yawning.

“What if we made a business out of this?” You blurt suddenly.

My gaze catches you again, and I sigh. “No one would understand what we do, We’d instantly be judged. You know it's a bad idea.”

You give me puppy eyes “Please? I could totally find some people who would understand.”

“Let me think about it,” I say, knowing that I'm not going to think about it. It's too risky. Even if we did find people, they would open their mouths to others, and then it wouldn't be a secret anymore. And besides, I like that only you and I know what we do.

“Corbin,” You whine my name and I smirk. “You're not going to think about it,”

“Maybe I don't want to,” I turn to you and take Your hands. “We shouldn't fight over this if we want good results tonight. It’ll ruin the vibe and our pictures won't be as good.”

You get up and glare at me. “All you care about is the pictures, never me.”

I sit up, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Corbin it's true,” You mutter.

“No it's not. I care about you more than any picture I've ever taken,” I tell you.

You shrug. “Then show it.”

You start to leave but I get up and slam the door before you can get out and I lock it. You look alarmed, but I know what I’m doing.

I grab your hands and some handcuffs and cuff you to the bed. 

“Corbin we've never-”

“I don't care.”

I lean down and smudge your mascara, and plant a quick kiss on your lips. 

I reach for the Polaroid but you grab my leg. 

“Corbin, what are you doing-”

I start taking pictures of you, calling you the worst things. You start crying and your mascara drips.

“Corbin, you're scaring me, I'm not comfortable with this!” You cry out, and I stop, throwing the Polaroid onto the bed.

“That's what it's going to feel like if we invite other people into this thing we have.” I say softly, taking your hand. “You know I love you, right?”

You swallow, and I uncuff you. 

“I love you too.”

Your eyes find mine and you hug me, crying into my shoulder for some reason. I don't understand why, I just stopped…

“I don't want to lose you,” You say quietly and I smile.

“You're not going to love. Not ever.”

And that's when I realize that I'm forever going to be obsessed with the mystery of you.