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I broke your heart last week. You'll probably feel better by the weekend. Still remember, had you going crazy / Screaming my name. Ivy ♱Frank Ocean
Behind those bright green irises, hopeful and serene, lied the sting of bittersweet tears. Behind that pearly white smile, lied the burning of teeth sunk into flesh. Behind that perfect complexion, lied lilac bruises and paper-thin scars. Carissa Danvers was immortal (she thought she was, lived life like she was).
She tasted sweet — like coconut and cinnamon, like summer and fall in a luscious potion. Her divine lips were soft and tender like silk, moving gracefully against those of a one-night lover. The honey-waterfall of luscious locks that cascaded past her bare shoulder looked oh, so inviting to get your fingers tangled in.
Don't let that fool you.
Don't be such a sucker.
He fell tragically into her trap of lust and sweet nothingness. His pathetic little heart sat proudly in the palm of her hand, while her delicate fingers clenched the muscle violently, her freshly manicured nails stabbing the material. The blood dyed her skin a disgusting shade of red. Oh, you're so vicious!
Carissa Danvers really was sweet, though. But she knew how to get what she wanted.
When it came to the boy with doe-hazel eyes and unruly brown locks, she knew how to get what she wanted.
