| ...the pain of a heart... |
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| Did your heart ever percieve perfection? No? Perfection lies in one's soul, where the mind is free to fly without any mundane confines. Her undead heart rejoyced in his voice. In a low and sultry tone he called her name over and over. She instinctively arched int him, barring her neck, showing him her utmost faith. He licked his lips and gave a fanged smile. His mouth descended unhurriedly towards her pale neck, his lips closed around the rose fragrant skin and sharp fangs pierced her... |
| back to the written |
| Lyctaea woke up from another dream. She clutched the silken sheets and trembled. The familiar room brought no comfort to frightened girl. She collapsed to a crying heap...crystal tears flowing down her thin pale face. Long golden waves framed her lithe figure, glittering in the dim light as her body was wreched with sobs. The sobs finally died down and she lay back onto the pillows, her mouth muttering a single word before she fell abck in a trance like state of sleep... "...no..." A couple of years previously: A pub, just like many others, littered with youths. A girl dancing in the middle of the dance floor, body pulsating to the hard tune. She tossed her long golden mane and lifted her multi-bangled hands only to make them descend slowly against her body creating a painful sight for the multitude of guys watching her with lust laden eyes. All but one. He stood alone at the bar. The candle light flickered on his features, raven hair, night black eyes and pale skin. He was clothed in his usual outfit, classy black silk shirt and matching pants finished off with the ever present leather duster. The dancing girl's movements were subtly directed to the mysterious guy but with no avail. His gaze was icy and no emotion slipped from his imapassive mask. A tall guy, presumably goth, clad from head to toe in leather and metal approached the dancing girl and muttered something in her ear. She stopped her antics, only to shake her head sadly and leave the dance floor. She headed towards the other end of the bar, bought herself a bottle of wine and proceeded to get smashed. At some point, the mysterious guy picked his drink up, left is customary seat and walked towards the now drunken girl. "Need a lift home?" She looked up from, her glass in drunken stupor. She looked twice around her to make sure he really was adressign her, and then blinked. "Must have drunk too much. I'm seein' things," she added. "Perhaps. That's why I offered you a lift home." "Oo. Oh. Shit," the realisation suddenly hit her like a full speed train on a collision course with a concrete wall. "Shit," she repeated. With that, she tried to get up but her sloshed brain seemingly forgot the emaning of gravity and mass stability. The black eyed youth grbbed her shoulders and straightened her up. "I'm taking you home. Now hold onto me and try not to loose you supper." She nodded lighlty as they staggered out into the night. to be cont^...... |