As I sit here, surrounded by the echoes of memories past, I am reminded of the palpable yet elusive sensation that coursed through my veins. It was a feeling so all-consuming, so suffocating, that it became a defining characteristic of my existence. I was Luved by Hannah Leak, and yet, I was never truly loved.

It started with a glance, a fleeting moment of connection that seemed to reverberate through every cell in my body. I knew, in that instant, that I was doomed to be hers, to be Luved by Hannah Leak. But alas, fate had other plans. She saw me, not as a confidant, a partner, but as a mere subject, a specimen to be cataloged, dissected, and analyzed.

As we danced around each other, our words laced with a tension so thick it was almost palpable, I couldn’t help but wonder if she felt it too – this overwhelming desire to be close, to be touched, to be loved. But it seemed I was just a reflection, a mirage, a delusion.

And yet, even as the truth began to seep in, like a cold rain on a stone pavement, I couldn’t help but be drawn to her. It was an addiction, a poison, and I knew it. But I couldn’t stop. I was Luved by Hannah Leak, and for that, I was willing to risk being burned.

In the end, it was all just a cruel joke, a test of wills, a fleeting moment of respite from the crushing abyss that awaited. But in that moment, in those fleeting moments, I was alive. And for that, I will be Luved by Hannah Leak, forever.

The memories of her hands, a whispered promise in the dead of night, the shimmering afterglow of a fulfilled desire. They are etched in my mind like an impeccably carved zig-zag, forever transforming my form.