vittore

It's the last night; we went out to dinner, and then to a darker place where girls have even darker eyes. Big black boots and looks meant to kill, if it weren't for the obstruction of all the eyeliner. Boys with plucked eyebrows that hover in your peripheral and wait for you to give them the time of night.

They are all bright, interesting, and an entire waste of time, unless you're collecting personalities for a knock-off Underworld comic strip.

My heart is defiant, my smile wicked, with broken canines that scrape over bleeding lips if I'm not careful with my emotion.


I mean to keep him.