the soft, hazy tune of the radio fills the basement.
he pulls her up by her waist and guides her carefully, stretching her arm up with his to intertwine their fingers as they dance in unison.
"oh, amelie, love," he murmurs, smiling back at her. he pulls her closer, fingers brushing against her sundress. "you're as lovely as the day i saw you."
his other hand lets go of her arm and he reaches down to stroke her hair, golden hair weaving between his fingers, the smell of sweet saffron drifting. she was beautiful. sky blue eyes. vanilla skin. melon sugar lips parted. peachy cheeks. small waist. round breasts. milk tea thighs. honeyed moans. so sweet. so soft. so fragile. it was all he ever wanted.
he kissed those red-painted lips, deep yet gentle, slotting his hips against hers, sliding an hand underneath the folds skirt. his other hand moved to untie the white ribbon, long blonde tresses falling down like sun peeking in on an rainy day. "you tease me too much," he mumbles softly against her coconut-scented hair. "i don't know how to refrain myself." he presses his mouth on her sugared lips, dizzy and drunk on her touch. his hands explore the texture of her alabaster skin underneath the silky fabric of her dress. a deep groan escapes him. he pulls her closer to his feverish body. his body tenses so easily underneath her touch.
"please amelie," he pecks her chin, her throat, her collarbones, and finds his way to the curve of her breast. he grips her thigh underneath her dress, caressing the soft flesh. "tell me to stop. i'll only stop if you say so. say it. say it please." his voice is raspy, shaking.
she doesn't reply.
"fuck."
he kisses and touches and squirms over her. pushes into her mouth. grasps her hands. groans in her ear. dips into her soft flesh, mouth watering, teeth gliding against her thigh, tongue lapping at her honey. he cupped her breasts. he coated his lips in her honey; he licked her up and down. he clawed and grabbed at aphrodite hips. he found comfort in her sweetened vanilla tongue. he bit at her milky neck. he arches his back and parts his mouth into the cry of an god he doesn't believe in. her pure skin tastes like cherry sap and saccharine tea. his chest flutters with his breath as he moans, collapsing.
he looks back at her, eyes furrowed. "amelie? are you sick?"
she falls to her knees and heaves, bile flowing from her rose milk throat. maggots and blood spill from her lips. her skin is like rotting pearls, peeling and torn. her bones tear through, cracked and black. her sundress is tattered, stained with dust and ash. her eyes are gone, replaced with black sockets filled with worms.
she's been rotting for an long time.
blue and red flashing lights slowly approach through an small window, falling over his face. he can hear the faint smell of sirens. the police. he looks back at amelie and sighs. "oh, amelie, love," he murmurs, pulling her close and guides her carefully. he lifts her from the floor, laughing. "what a mess we're in." he smiles.
they continue dancing.
