How About A Tickle?

"Feeling bad for the poor, crooked girl, huh?"

She asked him, her eyes flashing with the fierceness of a wounded lioness, as if daring him to deny it.

"Not really. You said I caused you pain, right? Just wanted to even that." 

"Whoa, really? A molester with morals? You want me to believe that shit? Just admit it. Just say you felt bad because I'm useless."

Esmeralda shot back, her tone laced with bitterness and self-loathing.

'Wow. This girl really hates herself.'

Kaisen thought, a pang of sympathy tugging at his heart despite the circumstances.

He recognized the type of self-hatred Esmeralda harbored, the kind that stemmed from being born a certain way.

It wasn't as if she had any control over her condition, but for some reason, she believed she deserved it, as if it were some sort of punishment.

And it didn't stop there.