His fingers carded through her hair. The soft strokes parted tufts of brown hair; it cascaded down her shoulders with the relative ease of a soft flow of water; a waterfall ebbing and pulsing over the soft curves of her shoulders. She sighed delicately into his touch, knots of tension unraveling under his gentle ministration. The boy smiled, lips curling into the beginning of something unrestrained. The more he brushed, the more the girl relaxed: head lolling against his shoulder, hand falling upon his thigh, her eyes rolling beneath her translucent eyelids -- careful veins of green and blue skittering over her pale canvas.
The boy observed her carefully, but with much mirth, the greens of his eyes accentuating the increasingly deluded manner with which he regarded her.
He blinked, sighed, then smiled, unfiltered eyes deglazing as the haze of ecstasy lifted from his maddened eyes. With a renewed gaze, he swallowed in her dazzling appearance: sallow eyes, pallid skin, and pus-filled bubbles rippling over her decayed form. Maggots squirmed in their caves and a horrid stench wafted from the dead girl’s parted lips, fish-like in manner, dead and cold. Her eyes, pale white and glazed lay open in mute horror, the wrinkles around her eyes only pulling the already dreadful expression she was making. The imprint of her last moments, engraved within her coffin of skin, sinew, and bones.
“My darling, my beauty, my goddess,” The boy pressed a kiss to her pale skin. “You are as beautiful as the day I first laid my unworthy eyes upon you.” His voice was a manic thing, twisted and breathy. He fingers glided over the expanse of her embroidered gown, taking in the split seams and bits of coagulated blood, now black from age.
“Now we shall never have to part.”
As he lay his lips on hers once more, a silent scream left her hanging mouth: a cry for help.
---
So bored. Which should I update first?
(The Hanged Man, Caution: Before You Fall In Love, or The Sanguine Empress?)