( the prompt but with a darker twist, because i’m a sucker for pain. / tw: sa )

in the heart of our love’s dying embers, where the moonlight whispers secrets only the broken-hearted comprehend, there lingered a shadow most ghastly—a reminder of the darkness that lurked behind those hands, once tender now turned tormentor. we were both _so_ young, drenched in the fever of a passion that sang in hues of forbidden maroon, yet not even the brightest stars could dispel the hideous chasm that lay between our flesh and soul.

his hands—oh, those _hands_, like coiled serpents cloaked in the velvet of deceitful affection—moved with an arrogance that belied their true nature. what once seemed a caress now became a vice, a harrowing touch that left scars no amount of time could _ever_ _erase_. underneath the guise of a lover’s embrace, i discovered the dread truth that the flesh was not always a sanctuary but a prison of cruel, unending pain.

each press, each grip, was a relentless symphony of agony, conducted by the conductor of our shared nightmare. those hands, once promising warmth, now sought to imprison my spirit with a grasp that was nothing short of _monstrous_. the warmth of their touch, now suffused with a chilling undertone of malevolence, was a cruel parody of affection.

in the cruel theater of our lives, where every gesture was scrutinized, these hands became the symbols of torment, the very essence of betrayal hidden beneath a veneer of love. i became an unwilling audience to a performance so gruesome, it was impossible to avert my gaze from the grotesque tableau of my despair.

the hands that once promised solace now embody the purest, most harrowing form of betrayal. and so, in the quiet moments when the world retreats, i am left to grapple with the dismal reality that love can sometimes be a cage with no key, a tale of _horror_ cloaked in the semblance of tenderness.