Maya had a thing for pathetic people. The more miserable and desperate they were, the more she felt drawn to them, like a moth to a flickering flame. She loved the way their eyes would dart nervously, the way their shoulders would slump under the weight of their own despair. It made her want to wrap them in her arms, to press her soft curves against their hunched bodies until they felt the warmth of her skin, the gentle strength of her embrace. Until they forgot, for a moment, the darkness that clouded their minds. Or until they snapped and took her the way she wanted to be taken~