I can�t do it. I just can�t imagine him as a heartless killing machine. I mean, he practically melts when I turn my �dark chocolate flirtin� machines� his way.
He could never be an animal to me when he strokes my cheek, holds me close, calls me his mate.
�You�re my baby,� he whispers into the darkness.
�And you�re my man.� I reply.
To Jean, it�s Eros or Thanatos � either lust or some twisted death wish that brings us together. I can�t blame her for not understanding.
You see, she�s never looked through the beast to see the beauty inside.