Gothgirlfriends - Nika Venom - Enjoys Passionat... -
The rain hadn't stopped for three days. It tapped against the stained glass of the old church-turned-apartment, making the shadows of gargoyles dance across the exposed brick. Nika Venom liked it that way. Melancholy had a rhythm, and she moved to it.
She was perched on the edge of the black velvet chaise, one fishnet-clad leg tucked under her, the other dangling a scuffed combat boot just above the floor. A thin trail of clove smoke curled from her lips toward the tin ceiling. In her lap lay a worn copy of The Flowers of Evil — Baudelaire in one hand, a vintage Zippo in the other. GothGirlfriends - Nika Venom - Enjoys Passionat...
Nika Venom didn't chase. She allowed .
She tilted her head. A ghost of a smile. Not sweet. Possessive. The rain hadn't stopped for three days
"I enjoy the argument before the makeup. The first bite of something too spicy. The silence at 3 AM when the whole world is asleep except us, and we're both thinking the same filthy thought." Melancholy had a rhythm, and she moved to it
"You want to know what I enjoy passionately?" she asked, closing the book with a soft thump.
"You're staring again," she said, not looking up. Her voice was low, a contralto that vibrated like a cello string pulled too tight.