There is this voice in my head that is controlling all my actions. That same voice pulled me back into the bathroom and told me to get into the tub. That voice is shouting so loud in my head, begging me to make a fucking move and kiss him.
The reasonable part of me won't do that.
The sensible part of my brain that knows this is so wrong. I am way older than him. I died when I was eighteen. I have lived for a hundred and fifty years. So that makes me one hundred and sixty-eight years old. I don't know how this works. Am I being a paedophile for wanting this sixteen-year-old boy the way I do?
The age thing has been my major concern. I don't feel good about it because I know it is not right but this pull is out of my control. There is a force that is making me weak and I don't know what to do about it.
"What are you feeling?'' he asks still looking at me with those eyes that will only make me weaker.
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