Smoke weeps from parted lips, polluted air hardly disturbed by it. Lids shield pretty blue eyes from the world——&& then lips stretch into a sickening grin.
A cigarette is cradled between fingers && she beckons to [ READER ].
“Come here, darling ash tray.”
/ Timezone hell. It’s 4am here.
I miss being in LATAM already. Just arrived to my home soil yesterday. Now, the question is… do I bother y’all when I have two flights today?
The way 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 necks are sculpted in a thing of perfection, for the leather——or the cold metal of a collar to find a home upon, with her slender fingers toying with a leash.
“Do you understand how weapons work?”
A low purr, blue gaze cold—trigger clicking, gun in hand. A head tilts, metal heavy in hand.
“They behave, they show no mercy. They must be kept in line, well leashed.”
“Cry for me, darling.”
No sympathy waltzes in those divine eyes, curious fingers dragging down flesh. A suck in of a breath, laughter vile.
“Or must I make the body weep? I’ve no qualms.”
/ Olá amores. Tive muitas saudades vossas. 🥹 I can’t promise I’ll always be here. Once I return home from overseas (Brasil ➡️ Down Under™️), I have to work my ass off to come back here for my little niece. I am living a beautiful life.
“Cry for me, darling.”
No sympathy waltzes in those divine eyes, curious fingers dragging down flesh. A suck in of a breath, laughter vile.
“Or must I make the body weep? I’ve no qualms.”
“Do you understand how weapons work?”
A low purr, blue gaze cold—trigger clicking, gun in hand. A head tilts, metal heavy in hand.
“They behave, they show no mercy. They must be kept in line, well leashed.”
&& oh, is there disgrace hidden in dull flesh? She would like to dig a heel into softness with perverted delights. There is something pretty in murdered dignity—collar tight.