flirting-with-death
His voice resonated like a efflux of rich , distilled perfumes by her sensitive ear. Every terrible , carnage detailed word he whispered made her tremble and flinch in effect , but yet --- she couldn't move , because of the strong , manly grip on her left wrist. His scintillating optics of vermillion red gazed at the smaller woman softly. As he guided his soft hand over hers to locomote the ichor , stained brush against the white canvas , " You know , i have an idea of what you can design , my darling."
CREDIT FOR COVER AND BIO BY @TAOROU , THANKS YOU BEAUTIFUL FURRY