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innocent eyes entrance you.
she's oddly bashful as she blushes from across the room, your gaze shooting bullets into her. she feels odd, out of place and you can tell.
her gaze turns as she shys away from you, yet it doesn't talk long before you make your way over to her.
there's just something about her.
you can't help but warmly smile at her, only too feel giddy at the tiniest smile that itches at her soft lips.
you take her hand and bring her to the dance floor. she's no longer uncomfortable in your arms surrounded by bodies of strangers she doesn't care enough to get to know.
you dance with her. and she's so delicate in your arms.
you kiss her. mold your lips with hers as you swiftly make your way to drag her out of the club.
you think you're the lucky one. oh, how gullible you are.
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at your apartment you make-out, pull her onto the sofa with you.
she's so intoxicatingly beautiful. oh, she's so beautiful.
clothes get discarded and scattered across the floor; you can't help but stare.
how silly of you.
all good things must come to an end, you know?
you don't seem to notice the small knife in her hand.
well,
not until you were dead.
with blood pooled around your body she pecked your lips once more.
and then she disappeared.
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HAZEL "HAZ" NYLUND. TWENTY-THREE. PANSEXUAL ; AVAILABLE ; SWITCH (SUB).
