I was drawn to him from the first day I saw him. Maybe I was chosen for that reason - they knew that Fox Mulder would capture my libido. I freely admit that I'll go for anything on two legs, but Mulder is special.
It's not just that he's beautiful, although he is certainly beautiful in a way few men are. That was the first thing I noticed about him. It came through on the picture they showed me. He seemed to smolder right through the paper. It didn't prepare me for his reality, though. Something about the man says "Take me" and my body certainly responded. I was grateful that damn suit fit so badly, and it helped with the hero worship bit.
It's not just his brilliance, either. God, that sometimes outshines his beauty. I don't know how any one could follow that mind of his, and I don't know why he's so easily manipulated despite it. Sometimes I think I can see his fire and brilliance burn in the night, and that should be enough.
In all that beauty, in all that brilliance, there is a darkness that calls to me, that matches the darkness in my own soul. Fate gave him forfeits as well as gifts. Every betrayal has left its own mark on him, and guilt and despair are the salt for the wounds. And that pain is what pulls me in.
We both do what we do because we feel we are doing the right thing. The difference is that I don't care what means I use to get to an end, and he does. Maybe that's something else that brings me to him. I know I can make him forget his morals. Every blow he lands on me is a victory for me as it brings him closer to the darkness we share. And my kiss? Maybe it was a way to bring myself to the light. It seemed the way to convince him I was telling the truth. Both sets of truths - the one I was telling him and the one I wanted to tell him.
How else do you tell the son of a man you killed that you love him? This was the only way I knew how.
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