pocket sized princess

She adored him with ever last breath in her body. He was her kindered spirit, so like her in so many ways. But it had, in a strange sort of fashion, been a relief to exit her mother's home, to escape to amore serene existence with John, whose sense of humor was precisely like hers. He understood her, he anticipated her. He completed her. It has been the oddest sensation when she'd met him, almost as if she were a jagged puzzle finally finding its mate. Their first meeting hadn't been one of overwhelming love or passion, but rather filled with the most bizarre sense that she'd finally found the one person with whom she could completely be herself. It had been instant. It had been sudden. She couldn't remember just what it was he'd said to her, but from the moment words first left his lips, she had felt at home. —Chapter two. When he was wicked.