Garden of Ruin

I could feel him twisting strands of my auburn hair around his long, skilled fingers. He could twist my hair just as well as he could my heart, mind, and soul. I was his from the very beginning. I was his when I entered his garden of ruin.

I never understood the power one mundane human being could hold over another.

But he was far from mundane. He proved that to me time and time again when he would play my body just as beautifully as he could his piano. I was lost to him and gone from myself.