My Otherworldly Self Is a Little Strange

A contract on paper: who stole whose youth?

She bit his neck, her eyes fierce, and laughed, "You son of a bitch. I've finally found you."

She kissed his fingers and murmured with tender devotion, "You said I could do whatever I wanted. Don't make me crack that liar's skull."

She stroked his eyes and pleaded through her tears, because she knew he indulged her without limits. If he refused, she'd have to dig out that scumbag's heart and liver.

They taste even better with dipping sauce.

One hand after another covered his eyes, whispers mingling by his ear until they gradually merged into a single sentence.

"I grant you permission to do absolutely anything."