He taunted. "I think you're a self-righteous, sanctimonious, irritating piece of shit." I spat out, dangerously low. "I hate you." "You don't hate me." He softly chuckled. "I'll admit, I'm going to enjoy stretching you out. Making it hurt. Having you weak. Fucking the lies straight out of your pretty, little mouth and letting you forget every reason that makes you want to supposedly die, mon étoile."
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