Would he hate it? Charles had a salt shaker and was drawing a circle around her, pouring the white powder down around her. “You smell wet, my dear Fiora.”
“No I don’t.”
He held her fingers up to her nose. Every night you’d wake up knowing how bad your actions were. “You want to talk?” She stabbed down at him with the glass shard. “Iron springs. “All of it. She span round, a shard of glass in her hand. It felt thick and luscious at the base, thin and threadlike at the bottom. “What sort of poison?”
“Ricin maybe. Charles. She let out a moan. She tasted good. “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting real tired of your shit. There was a trail of blood leading to the fridge. She’d just come back from her work trip to Spain and she was completely exhausted. Her hand slowly became solid and she got a grip. “See, we’re talking!”
Charles rolled to the side and backed away towards the bed.
