Vale Forgive my trespasses, for I'm but a lowly mortal, a weak prey amongst gods who would seek the destruction of my soul by tainting it with their filth. Salvation isn't what I seek in Oliver's arms; it's his darkness that calls to me, whipping my body into a frenzy. He exists to steal my heart, my soul. Oh, how I offer it so willingly, even when I know better. I know he will destroy me, but unlike that unsuspecting moth, drawn into the light of a bright flame, I'm eager for my own demise. I yearn for his destruction. I want it, to be part of it, a part of him. Suddenly, Hell looks like an inviting, new neighbor. Do I want to be a good girl, the one I've been conditioned to be, or do I want to writhe in the waves of his shadows for all eternity? Is my soul as filthy as his deeds? Oliver Vale radiates an unparalleled beauty that surpasses anything I've witnessed. I yearn for a mere taste of her innocence, for it's all I'm permitted-a single sip at the fountain of her joyous surrender. Yet I'm inexplicably drawn to her radiant fire, like a starving man, unable to satisfy my cravings. If I indulge in her offerings, I fear a single taste won't be enough, and she'll wither in my arms until her light fades away. I long for her even though I know it's wrong. I know she can never be mine, yet the darkness inside my soul whispers to me, begging to be one with her, to take her, to make her entirely, irrevocably mine. My obsession, my longing for her will end me. I know it will. Will Vale be my greatest sin or my ultimate salvation?
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