Introduction
They say love is salvation.
But the love between my sister and I is like poison ivy growing from the cracks, entwined with the shackles of blood, and blooming with dying and gorgeous flowers.
She always sneaks into my room late at night, her fingertips are cold, and she traces my eyebrows. Her voice is full of intoxication and obsession: "Sister, your eyes are so beautiful, as if the entire starry sky has been crushed into pieces. Sometimes, I really want to collect them and show them only to me."
I should have been afraid.
But I just turned around in the dark, faced her paranoid gaze, kissed the corner of her lips with a smile, and then gently buckled the thin silver chain that had been prepared on her slender ankle.
"Okay," my breath brushed against her ears with the same morbid tenderness, "Then stay with me forever and look at this starry sky. Sister, you will never... Never want to see anywhere else."
The psychiatrist's warning still rings true: we are sick and must stay away from each other.
But he doesn't understand.
This sinking, burning, bloody possession is the only salvation between us.
