the stains that blotched their shirts were different; his from spilled coffee and hers from accidental cigarette burns. however, the stains on their bodies matched so beautifully. the red hickeys ethereally nested on her collarbones blending with the purple love bites trailing up his neck. [r. lupin] [highest: #60 fanfiction, #1 remuslupin] [warning: contains tobacco use & mature references]

Nightingale is human - or would be, had it not been for the manner of her creation. Genetically engineered and grown to adulthood in a lab, she was created, not born. Why? For the sole purpose of the entertainment of rich men as one of the many Inamoratas in the bordello business . Beautiful, elegant, a superb dancer and an even better singer, she is the perfect lover for any man. Perfect, that is, except for her personality - the one thing you can't engineer.