passion
❝but he needed her. like the crackling stars demanded their wretched sky.❞
careworn and smiling with a crooked grin, adoration slept in the wrinkles beside his eyes as he observed the mosaic beauty. she held his callused palm in hers and whispered to the moon; "tonight, we're monsters." romanticism isn't always beautiful.
Didn't you know? Destructive youths with killer tendencies and magic in their veins are the best kind. book i, first draft © 2019, arkhaic
THE ASSASSINS BLADE WAS CRAFTED FROM THE BONES OF HIS REFLECTION AND SHARPENED ON THE FLAT SPINE OF HIS SHADOW. 2016, revolved © ACTION | 138
I kiss your eyes so you will recognise me 2016, adriana © (p #48 - 140117)
drop by my house at half past noon; we'll make small talk of murder over chamomile tea © VANGOHS, 2017