Wounds coming back

She was the reason his jaw stayed clenched. The reason his knuckles stayed bloody. He used to dream of silencing her....with a bullet, or a grave. Now he dreams of her mouth… sliding down his throat like poison He takes willingly, nightly. Their war didn’t end... It changed shape. No longer grenades and gunfire, But nails dragging down backs, teeth tugging lips, her voice breaking into a moan that made his rage bend into desire. He told himself she was a mission. She told herself he was a mistake. But every time she touched him - skin on skin, lies on lips - They knew they were both addicts to the taste of each other’s ruins. He takes her as punishment. She kisses him like a dare. Neither one says love, But they sure as hell feel it - as it stares, when their hearts slam against ribs, When breath tangles, When they break the world just to be alone for one more night - to mingle. Enemies, But her thighs open when he growls her name. His hands tremble when she says please with venom in her voice. And when morning comes, they hate each other all over again - until the craving claws back in, and they end up naked, reckless, dangerous, all over again. Because some wounds.... You don’t want to heal.