but once i hold on, i won't let go 'til it bleeds
“You are a sick, sick bastard.”
“Ah, but ma petite belle. I am your sick bastard.”
The weretiger snorted, amusement and fear contorting her face into a grimace as she stared up at the vampire who had his hands cupped over his face, lighting a cigarette.
“You’re not my anything, thank God.”
“Were it only so true, kitty.” he replied in that bitter, silky voice that made the lycanthrope break out in shivers. And not the good kind. Her lips curled as a flash of revulsion crossed over her expression. Then fear dawned.
“Tell me your joking.”
He raised his face then and smiled distantly at her, lips thin and pale, mouth full of snake’s teeth and dried blood flecking his chin. In the dark the scars were just silvered shadows; you wouldn’t know half his face was melted away like so much fleshy candle wax. He had bright blue eyes, but a blue so pale it was almost white and those narrowed eyes glowed now at he stared at her--casting harsh shadows against the hollows of his sharp aristocratic cheekbones-- flickering every time he blinked.
“Till death do us part love.”
Exhaling, he laughed, his voice full of raspy velvet and smoky dragon’s breath that spiraled up into the cold December night.
She wanted to scream.
“Ah, but ma petite belle. I am your sick bastard.”
The weretiger snorted, amusement and fear contorting her face into a grimace as she stared up at the vampire who had his hands cupped over his face, lighting a cigarette.
“You’re not my anything, thank God.”
“Were it only so true, kitty.” he replied in that bitter, silky voice that made the lycanthrope break out in shivers. And not the good kind. Her lips curled as a flash of revulsion crossed over her expression. Then fear dawned.
“Tell me your joking.”
He raised his face then and smiled distantly at her, lips thin and pale, mouth full of snake’s teeth and dried blood flecking his chin. In the dark the scars were just silvered shadows; you wouldn’t know half his face was melted away like so much fleshy candle wax. He had bright blue eyes, but a blue so pale it was almost white and those narrowed eyes glowed now at he stared at her--casting harsh shadows against the hollows of his sharp aristocratic cheekbones-- flickering every time he blinked.
“Till death do us part love.”
Exhaling, he laughed, his voice full of raspy velvet and smoky dragon’s breath that spiraled up into the cold December night.
She wanted to scream.