B e w a r e.
"I know your type." I spoke flamboyantly as the heavily intoxicated drink lingered on my plump lips.
His thick brow arches in question, his rose lips threatening to curl into a smug smirk. "And what is exactly is my "type"?"
A slightly crude smirk dances upon my once stoic expression as my body leans into his, his enthralling fragrance wavering underneath my nose.
"You're just another hopeless man trying to get some pussy." My speech comes out in a slight slur as I spoke shamelessly.
A certain flare lit up his honey eyes as his lips melted into a frown, his brows furrowing at my comment. A sly smirk dances upon my lips at his reaction, but is quickly dissipated when his alarmingly cold hand grips my wrist with urgency.
Suddenly I felt sick to my stomach, and everything around me except his face became eerily blury. The hold he had on my wrist became tighter as his once hazel eyes turned a violet purple, and I gasp at the sight.
I thought I was imagining shit for a second, but after blinking a couple times, his eyes were still a bright purple.
Moving his face closer to mine, he stares intensely into my dark orbs; his now stark violet eyes seemingly swirling with a broad glow as if to put me into a trance.
A huge wave of drowsiness falls over me as my head sways from side to side, my gaze involuntarily stuck on his. Once he was barely a few inches from my face, he spoke in the deepest and coldest tone I've ever heard.
"You are far from right my dear. Very very far."