My Beloved Adele

This is a secret I can never tell anyone.

“Does it hurt a lot, Adele?”

No matter how much I try not to react, my body responds instinctively to the gentle touch accompanying my kind master’s concerned voice.

And that’s not all—there are dreams, dreams where I see my master in ways I would never dare to speak of.

Truly, it’s a secret I can never share with anyone.

“Swallow it all, don’t let any spill. This is what you wanted, after all.”

Chaotic scenery, trembling voices, moments of raw, unrestrained desire poured forth—

Goodness, I must have lost my mind.

The sensation was so vivid.

As if I had seen and experienced it all myself.

Tears fell. I clutched at my throat, overcome by a burning sensation.

What is this? These aren’t my emotions. It’s merely an imprint left behind in the object.

Yet the imprint seeped into me entirely, stirring the emotions within me.

When I kiss you, I stare into the radiant light pouring into your verdant, green eyes.

When I gather your luxuriant dark brown hair in my hands, rippling like waves—

I wanted to adorn it, to pin glimmering coral into it, as though scattering stars across the night sky. I wanted to decorate your hair beautifully.

“I wanted to love you like that.”

Sobs burst forth.