It was if those fishnet stockings were tangled around my neck-

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Oh, how she took my breath away. The very definition of a steal-your-heart-and-run heartthrob, that was Violetta Owens. Staying grounded was difficult with her; be it the fumes from her pipe or her kryptonite smile.

Violetta had taken time out of her scheduled heartbreaking to visit Goldvine mansion, otherwise known as the talk of the town.

The inside was equally as beautiful as the out. Marble columns supported an architectural collage of obsidian and other precious stones on the exterior, and the other side of the wall was laden with the like.

Maroon drapes spilled onto the silvery floor, six foot tall lamps decorated the area. Phonographs were stationed in the corner of ever room, echoing long-lost melodies of forbidden love and the golden age at a volume too faint to be bothersome.

Perhaps the most memorable detail of the house was the nickel spiraling staircase that fitted all four floors together. The railing was infused with countless other metals, all of different colors, looking like a forest clearing after you've stared into the sun for a bit too long. It was truly a lover of the fanciful's dream brought to life.

To my luck, I had inherited Goldvine when my parents gave up the ghost. They hardly earned the title of parents, for they were too busy living a life that even Gatsby himself would've envied. What's more, I was their only child.

Violetta scarcely spoke in between puffs, so I thought I'd break the ice. "Why don't you have a seat on the sofa? I'll go grab us a drink if you'd like."
She threw a smile at me before striding down the entry and into the den, "That sounds lovely, Vinique. Go right ahead."

I did as I was told and brought us back a pair of glasses encasing a drink by the same name as yours truly. She took a glass in hand and decided she would strike up the conversation this time around. "What is it that you get up to, Vinique? I rarely see you outside of these walls, let alone hitting the town. What told you to come and speak to me, hm?"

A startled laugh escaped my lips, "Oh, nothing.. I've just heard mighty good things about you.", I almost immediately regretted my words.
"A bit of a follower, are we?", she began, "What sorts of things have you heard?"

"Just that you're more dazzling than rain in the moonlight."
Violetta rolled her eyes, "You try too hard." She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, the animal in me couldn't help but glance over.

"Whaddya lookin' at?", she laughed.
I almost choked on my own tongue, "--Nothing.. I just."
"Don't liiiieee..", she sang as a smirk curled on her lips.
I was at a loss for words. While others might be having casual affairs every weekday and waltzing the night away, I preferred the indoors. Really, I didn't know how to act in this sort of situation.

She inched closer towards me, taking my shirt collar in hand and pulling me close enough so that I felt her breath on my neck. Chills ran down my spine--she was loving this.

"You could take a closer look if you'd like.", she smiled. My heart felt as if it would burst out of my chest.
I swallowed down my anxiety and leaned in for a kiss--that girl tasted like magic, and she had had a spell over me since before she ever walked through the door. It was strengthening by the second.

I'd had an occasional lip-lock at the parties I threw now and again, but nothing as intimate as this. I ran my tongue over hers, tugging her closer by the waist. Her shallow breathing was enough to make my heart turn somersaults. She straddled my lap, and if I hadn't grabbed onto the sofa's arm I'd have probably fallen over. Saliva strands reflected the dim light creeping in from under the drapes when she pulled back for just a moment, it was near impossible to look aside; I blushed wine red.

"Man, you're a sloppy kisser..", she teased. She seemed to live for seeing me uncomfortable.

It was no sooner that she pulled me back in: Her tongue trailed my gum line in a fit of lustrous heat, and I let her take over. I swear, that girl could read minds.

She leaned back just enough to be at my throat again, I was an intoxicated wreck at this point. "Looks like I've found where I'll be staying the night..", she whispered into my ear, interlocking her fingers with mine. I couldn't really place what color her eyes were, but I was at a loss for words at just the sight of them.

I can never recall exactly what went on later that night, but I'll surely never forget how it felt.

Violetta seemed to retire from her scouting habits after that. She more or less seemed devoted to me. She'd settle down at Goldvine for a few days, then leave for a few, going to God knows where; but those were just the times. The fact that she was giving me more attention than the bustle of the town sufficed.

We eventually got past the closeted phase and went out together. I'd take her to my favorite restaurants, and she'd drag my hesitant hindquarters into her weekend dance clubs. She'd always be on time to the extravaganzas I threw, never a second late. I'd get a buzz off her secondhand smoke and we'd chat it up for hours.

Drawn-out anaphora was all that seemed to escape her lips those nights. She spoke of Friday night lights and how the heavens danced alongside her in her prime. Romantic nights with the town as her sole partner. How she was sore afraid of losing her luster.

She worried for nothing, all the things she despised about herself were precisely the things I adored; her toothy grin, the airy way she talked, it was as if that girl could do no wrong.

I'd hold her close and throw little compliments around like confetti, all of which she all ricocheted back to me. I loved her, she loved me; nothing hurt, and all was right.

No matter where we were, or what we were doing, it didn't matter; as long as I was with Violetta Owens.

It almost seemed silly to me that she initiated nearly everything, even if it was just holding hands. I promise you, my lungs shrank three sizes when I was by her side.. hopefully the feeling was mutual.

But that was all far too good to be true.
If I have learned anything in all my years on this Earth, it is that perfection is impossible to achieve: It can only be bought.

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