Adrian Hawk Quotes

“It was an overwhelming need. He tried not to think about her, to go on with business as usual, yet he still found himself outside her apartment door, as if this place had a magnetic force that pulled him towards it.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“March 28, 2012
The dreams won’t subside. I don’t just have them at night anymore but during the day as well. Erotic flashes of her lips, her breasts, her thighs.
My imagination does not rest. I yearn to know what she feels like, what she tastes like. My dreams make me long for more.
This woman is a virus. Every cell in my body has been infected by her. I try to remain civil, normal when I’m in her presence but she’ll lick her lips or play with the top of her collar and suddenly memories of my dreams will come flooding back.
This woman is a virus that has dominated every part of my being. She attacks my lungs, squeezing the breath out of me until I’m hopelessly gasping for air.
This isn’t a want. This isn’t a need. This is an ache. I ache with wanting. I ache with need. I ache until the pain finally leaves me feeling numb. I long for that numbness. It’s the only time I feel like…I don’t feel.
I try to run away, to keep my distance but this woman is a virus. She’s in my blood. Her smile stops my feet from moving. The only time she allows me to breathe freely is when I inhale her perfume. I feel myself losing control.
These dreams, this ache is slowly driving me insane.
This woman is a virus and she’s eating me alive.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“Women problems, huh?” Mac asked.
“She’s more than a problem.” Adrian massaged his temples. “She’s…a virus, a lethal one. You know, there’s a rock song about her.” He sipped his whiskey and enjoyed the burning sensation as it trickled down his throat. “It’s called Poison.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“She smiled and he abruptly looked away. Was it really necessary for her to smile? It was bad enough that she wore the tightest black button down dress she could find. It hugged every sensuous curve, sheathing her like a second skin. It pulled tight over her breasts each time she stretched her arms. She just had to wear that dress today of all days. The day they had to work late. The day he was alone with her in the office. It was the middle of autumn for goodness sakes. She could have at least worn something longer, something less revealing?”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“He shut his eyes and grabbed the hair at the back of his head. The pain had not eased. It had just intensified.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“Having sex with her had been a catalyst, new flesh for the virus to feed on. No matter how hard he tried to block her out, she was always there at the back of his mind. Calling him. Begging him to go to her.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“Adrian.” Tears filled her eyes. “Will you love me for the rest of my life?” “No.” He shut his eyes and shook his head. “I’ll love you for the rest of mine.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“The virus that had lay dormant for two years had been reawakened by simply seeing her smile. He thought he would be impervious to it by now, but every time her eyes changed colour, every time she giggled, it just caused the infection to spread. He had no idea why he continued to torment himself this way; burning for a woman he knew he could not have.
He happily spent an hour or two with her each day and then braced himself for the self-inflicted torture that inevitably ensued at night. That torture had become his way of life, but he found that a worse fate would be not seeing at all.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“She never asked for that time yet she ended up getting it. He could not get away from her. Even if his feet moved at a hundred miles per hour, she was always right there, vividly imprinted in his mind. Calling him back to her. And he obediently responded to those calls. He was blindly being led by an all-consuming power that he had no control over.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“He had wanted to cure the virus by getting rid of the source, but nothing prepared him for the hurt and disappointment he saw in her eyes.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“The virus was rapidly spreading. It had infected his mind, eating away at everything except thoughts of her.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“Adrian, on the other hand, was held captive by a much more powerful master, and even though the shackles no longer felt as heavy, he only obeyed the earthy voice in his head. Even when Edward had ranted and raved and called him a crazy man,
Adrian had remained loyal to his master. Not even the promise of a higher salary had tempted him. He was ruled by only one woman, a woman that had enslaved him many years ago, and he was one hundred percent certain that those shackles were not coming off anytime soon.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“He arrested her hand and slammed it against the glass. “Don’t touch me,” he whispered hoarsely. “I won’t forget.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“I don’t love her!” he shouted. His voice echoed through his empty apartment. He stood and toppled his coffee table, its glass top shattering as it hit the floor. He kicked the sofa several times then went on a full rampage through his lavish apartment. Every ornament got a taste of his wrath. Curtains were ripped off the railings. Paintings were hit off the wall. Vases were flung across the room. Nothing was exempt from this riotous frenzy. Loud banging. Damaged furniture. Cracked glass. Everything that was whole and complete needed to be destroyed. Everything needed to feel the same way he did.
Broken… Shattered…
“I don’t love her.” He collapsed hopelessly into the mess he created, not caring about the jagged pieces of glass that pierced his skin. “I don’t love her.” He shut his eyes but the tears streamed down his cheeks regardless. “Love isn’t this painful.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

“The virus seemed to be thriving on his misery, relentlessly tearing through his insides.
Every day it made its rounds through his body. It started at his fingers, making them itch to touch her until he could almost feel her fleshy lips beneath his thumb, the silky strands of her hair sliding through his fingers. It would then move up to his arms, creating an urge to hold her, an urge that could not be fulfilled.
Next it went for his eyes, causing him to see her everywhere, in every little thing. He would see her in the kitchen, making coffee. He would see her cuddled up on the sofa, watching T.V. He had to blink several times before he realised that she wasn’t really there. It would then move to his heart, ruthlessly choking it until it was so heavy and so sore, he could feel the pain of losing her in every beat.
And then, finally, just as night fell, it would attack his brain, invoking images of her.
Thoughts and memories and dreams. He could not take much more. It was slowly driving him insane. He could not break out of these shackles.”
― Jacqueline Francis - The Journal