Beauty is a Blade (A Thousand Scars for You) by Justin Bourne Boring
You’re goddamn right I mean business. I’m over two hundred years old, so my days of enduring narcissistic, lying, cheating assholes are over. Did I overreact by destroying an entire township in Jersey? Maybe, but sometimes you have to weigh consequences against comeuppance and scorch some earth. Sue me. I occasionally get a little stormy when someone rubs me the wrong way, but cheat on me, and you’re gonna catch my claws. Fortunately for others, that didn’t happen often. My heart wasn’t as black as my long, straight hair or as pale as my alabaster skin, but I could be hard and unforgiving when it came to infidelity. I’m working on it.
Naturally, my shenanigans meant they would be coming for me, but it’s okay; the just desserts were worth the calories. Besides, I’m finally ready to face them; it was long past due anyway- but that’s a story for a little later.
I’m not the least bit ashamed to say I was deeply in love with a miserable phony prick for four years (a blink of an eye for me) or that I had recently agreed to marry said miserable phony prick a few days ago. When people are profoundly disingenuous about who they are, one can’t be blamed for trusting them. I wear my heart on my sleeve; being powerful and ageless allows me to be vulnerable in ways others can not. However, the downside is that you tend to go to extremes when someone fucks you over.
Morristown, New Jersey? Collateral damage. Honestly, it was worth it. There’s little left in the world that commands my full and total rage, and unfaithfulness is one of them. Not to mention, in all my years, I’ve known only one thing sweeter than love, and that’s revenge.