I watch with hungry eyes as your father presents you to your respectable, pureblood suitors. You introduce me as your friend.
Your real friends have grown tired of my name on your lips, whispered while my teeth still mark your skin.
Tears fall from your eyes as you leave my bed in the dead of night. You think you’re so sly—I always notice.
You’re not a prize, but I’ll play this game. I’ll hold you, watch you walk away, and wait until you run back into my arms. Again and again, ‘til you no longer see me as your friend.
