Crooked grins, sly hands and one very dangerous voice. That was who he was know for. Wearing blood and pain, like a cologne over his massive built and expensive suits. He made hell his home. Like whiskey in a teacup and the sun that could brighten up any darkness, she wore her smile like a loaded gun, her aim always accurate. She healed her own heart, like a child forced to grow up. This was their story: (Warning: Heavily Unedited! Mature-ish content)