After a guy sleeps with a girl, the romanticized version of her he had in his mind dies, the lust draining out of sight, distaste filling the glory, but...why is that? Why is it that a man can get satisfaction? Why is it that men could be so greedy? So undesirable?
The bell's chime echoed throughout the chain, followed by a warm, "Welcome to Efímera, Any specific you're looking for?"
She was met with disheveled, untamed hair. A man much to her surprise.
"A Bouquet. Purple Hyacinths, Red Roses, and Red Dahlias."
"Remarkable mix, don't you think?"
Purple hyacinths, a desire of forgiveness, sorrow. Red roses, the rose of desire, a communication of love and the beauty of the dahlia, sentiments of overcoming.
He withheld sharp, plum eyes that glistened with intensity. Intensity that could penetrate an innocents soul. His eye bags, heavy, and his lips twitched in disbelief. She couldn't help looking at them, too engulfed to look away. Scared of the consequences it would come with.
"They always showed my intentions nevertheless."
His intentions weren't with care, or with love. They never would, always with the intention to control.
to conquer.
With an attire utterly white, the only thing that truly made the man stand out were those preposterous red boots. "Well played Dostoevsky,"
SHE
CHAPTER FIVE: BLEED INTO YOUR SENSES
YOU ARE READING
SHE / bsd
Fanfiction"You're bewitching. You know that?" He moved the flowers towards him, embracing the loath of planting before pulling away. "You know, everytime i pass an aweing flower, I think of you." spread on the counter below her, he rested his head on his han...
