Sharp Smile on the Burgundy Hour


Long finger has been poking her visibly longer sharp bicuspid for quite a while now.. her crimson lips easily drying caused her tongue to slither against them every now and then. Violet hues are fixated on a poem boom she had picked up lately..  ‘ Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire ‘ is written on the front page that closes as she lets the book rest on her lap. What a bore…

She had to wait till the sun went down before going out and at this point she had become impatient. She rarely sought the buzzing sound of the city but after over a decade of shutting herself in her cottage somewhere in the forest she had come back in her quintessential Parisian apartment. 

Music echoes in the dim lit room with the dark curtains that keep the sun out. But she had to have it that way, otherwise she would become nothing but dust. Not that she minded it at this point. The thought had crossed her mind countless times, this evening being one of them.

She whimpered displeased as she stood up, eyeing the strawberry liqueurs and alcoholic beverages hidden behind a glass case.. remnant of her human life. Oh, how she would love to taste that sweet nectar. Her heart clenched and a crimson tear pilled up in the corner oh her eye. 

No no, she had to pull herself together. Tonight was a hunt night and she was going to enjoy it. She walked nonchalantly out of the living room and down the corridor that led to her bedroom that was sprinkled with undergarments, dresses and shoes thrown in disarray… she sighed and walked inside her closet but she didn’t need a light to see as she just pulled out of the hangers a random dress and walked away. 

Nothing intrigued her at this point.. no one to impress… another sigh as she takes off her champagne colored négligé in order to change into a burgundy long dress… the color made her smirk as she headed to her chiffonier to pick up a lipstick that was laying on top with the same color. 

She leaned closer to the mirror that was situated in the middle of the furniture and pouted her lips so that she could apply her new mask and flashed an alluring smirk to herself. It did the trick to fix her mood and boost her confidence.

“A purse… a purse…“ she tapped her fingers against her chin as she looked around the chaos for the little black item. “Ah! There you are~“ she bent her knees gracefully to fish it out from a pile and head out of the room before she glanced above her shoulder at her little cologne bottle that was standing on the chiffonier and sneakily snatched it and hid it in her purse.

Walking down the corridor and into the entrance hall she glanced at the large windows at a spot where the curtains were not hiding and a white light was standing out in the dark sky “Bye bye Sun~” she wiggled her fingers and head towards the door, picking a pair of black high heels on her way that she slipped on swiftly before walking out of her apartment.

It had been so long since she had been to the neighborhood that wasn’t sure what kind of clubs or bars she could head to… her curiosity made her think about the bar she used to sing a few nights in the past and wonder if it was still open. Fingers brush against her long platinum hair before tucking a few strands behind her ear revealing a content grin. 

Her legs almost like they were put under a spell led her to the place. And to her surprise the bar was still working, making her even more eager to see a familiar face. She took out her perfume momentarily to spray the crook of her neck and the inside of her wrists before she headed in. 

Long lashes flutter with languish as her gaze danced around the place… she spotted a few changes in the decoration but the most important thing was there… the microphone stand. She smiled to herself lost in thought only for a tender warm touch to pull her out of it. 

Her head tilts to the side allowing her eyes to fall on the hand that was resting around her arm and her heart skipped a bit. She would recognize this pair of fingers everywhere… 

Old Friend.

The sound of piano keys is echoing in the distance… the sound reaching Adalina’s ears causing her to hallucinate in her dream like state. Fingers intertwining light chestnut colored strands… long and silky to the touch, adorned by little flower stems that she is braiding along. Shoulders and a back all too familiar… a voice that fills her with warmth and security… nostalgia and sadness.

A tear run down her pale cheek, drenching the pillow she is resting her head on. Long blond almost transparent eyelashes slowly open, hesitantly almost denying the reality she had to wake up to. Fingers curled against her chest clench tightly, trying to grasp the fleeting feeling her dream had provided her with, a surfacing memory. Lips tremble before opening softly in disbelief… the piano has not stopped playing. It still rung in her ears, filling her heart with hope.

With a swift movement she throws the covers to free herself, legs spread for feet to eagerly touch the wooden floor. Her heart is beating so fast, afraid of what she is going to face. A harsh reality or a hopeful dream… ?

Fast steps take her down the dark corridor, hope building up along the way as there is light coming from the living room. Before she stops abruptly- Hands tug the hem of her off white nightgown as she takes a deep breath. Violet hues glisten and a mellow expression rests on her features as the music stops. “Gabe…”

Cello & Espesso

It’s morning.. the sun rays are warming your body under the quilt you’re half covered with… a gentle breeze brings the sound of Cello from the neighbor across the street, bless open windows. The smell of cigarette is invading along the strong smell of coffee. You peak behind the transparent curtains searching for his figure.. ruffled dark chocolate strands are covering his expression, he is wearing a light colored shirt completely unbuttoned but you cannot take a glimpse of his uncovered chest because it’s hidden behind the massive instrument. His fingers dance along the strings like a magician casting his spell… the sound they produce, like a gurgling water running amidst valleys and trees, mountains and hills. 


You stay still, mesmerized by the melody, the scents, the view… unable to understand how time passes and the song comes to an end. But you still don’t move, till he raises his head and you can finally gaze in those deep forest greens. He gazes back and you can feel your cheeks burning, is it embarrassment? But you cannot turn away now, something is keeping you from doing so. His lips move and suddenly the soft Summer breeze causes the curtain to dance and cover him for that split second. 

What did he say!? You are so eager to know that you perk up, you run to the window, hands grabbing that evil curtain pulling it aside. But he is not there anymore.. only his cello.. resting. Reminder of the little magical moment you just experienced. 

You bite your lower lip, looking around the empty room spotting his still burning cigarette on the coffee table, but the coffee is missing.. there is no scent from the espresso that woke you up. Will he come back? Should you wait there on the windowsill? The thoughts are occuppying your mind but the little melodic sound of your doorbell brings you back to reality and along a little hopeful speculation.



Every step heavy and long, the sound of her sword being dragged on the muddy ground muffled from the drops of the heavy rain. Wet clothes transparent, revealing her feminine body. Face hidden from the drenched spiky and short dark hair strands. Leaves one wondering what her expression might be. Only a crimson glimpse is visible every now and then by the sudden lightings. 

A deep growl vibrating on her chest, her breath visible in the darkness. The ominous aura that surrounds her figure doesn’t leave space for wondering. She is ready to kill and nothing would stop her. Logic pushed and choked by anger, the beast inside her growing more and more uncontrollable with every step, with every thunder.

The rhythmic wobbling of drums reverberating from deep within the forest. Her heart in complete sync, her pulse getting faster and faster. She is hardly controlling her feral instincts from going berserk. She can taste the blood on her lips with a lick already. She seeks it, she craves it. She wants to see them suffering, begging for mercy… and the idea of it is exhilarating. She has spotted her prey and she’s ready to hunt. 

Soulmates ( first meeting )

The bass beat reverberates against her chest. The red flashing lights of the club are numbing her senses. Jasmine just walked in the club wearing a black dress and high heels. Of course she is not here for entertainment but for a job. She takes a deep breath and lets the confusion settle in. Her senses are very keen so right now she is all over the place, finding hard to concentrate she bites her lower lip. What is this feeling? Amidst the crowd her nose catches an attractive almost alluring scent. It’s driving her crazy. Pushing a few people away from her way she walks towards her new target. Heart beating in a frenzy, not sure if it’s from the music or the mysterious scent. Fingers dig in the soft material that covers her bosom. Black eyelashes hide crimson orbs for a few seconds as she is trying to spot the person who is attracting her unconsciously, she is feeling the scent approaching closer.. and closer… 

Suddenly she feels a hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her against a muscled body. Unconsciously hands open in front of her to protect herself from the clash, only to feel the warmth of their torso against her fingertips, their heart beating fast like hers. “..found you…” the man growls against her ear. Her nostrils are full of the sensual scent, eyes open widely to catch a glimpse of white colored hair before the male’s other hand pulls the back of her head against the crook of his neck. The sudden feeling of his lips against her collarbone is driving her crazy, their breath is burning her skin. She lets one hand slide on their shoulder before digging her fingers in this hair, pulling them lightly just enough to get her point across as a result fangs bite her soft skin before they start nibbling on it. A soft moan escapes between her plump ruby colored from the lipstick lips. 

The desire she feels for the stranger is primitive, but she is unable to stop it. It’s too late, she has let her animal instinct take over. Unfamiliar lips press together, sucking each other needily as tongues start twirling in a frenzy. They both keep their eyes closed as they have let the beasts inside them take control. The connection is surreal, Jasmine doesn’t want to separate herself from the other. Almost like she needs him for her survival. The pleasure he givers her is surreal, like an addictive drug that she cannot stop taking. Low growls and muffled moans mingle together, suppressed from the loud music. Nothing else matters right now apart from him.

Cerulean Knight

Blood is running down his silver armor… splattered on his fair skin and light hair… dripping from his fingertips and the sword that is the extension of his hand… Blood. Is it his own or does it belong to the lifeless corpses that are laying around him? Chestnut colored eyes with tints of forest green rest on his crimson colored hands. He cannot move, his breath becoming gradually heavier. His vision blurs from sudden tears that run down his cheeks washing off the ruby splatters.

From the distance the deep sound of drums is signaling that the fight is not over. Taking a sharp breath he rubs off with the back of his hand the transparent liquid, smudging together blood and tears. He exhales slowly trying to collect himself and closes his eyes momentarily. There is no time for sentiments. He whistles loudly, and in a few seconds a white horse is running towards him. It is covered in silver armor , the same blue details of the Kingdom Aldo is serving are adorning the saddle. It’s his horse that approaches him head on and with a swift move of his hand he stops the animal that is neighing in a frenzy. 

“Easy boy…“

His voice calm and collected like his touch on the muzzle of the animal. It doesn’t take long for it to halt stomping it’s legs on the ground and the young knight with a swift jump rides it. His cape waving behind him gracefully as he stares in the distance with his regained confidence and his fist tightens around the grip of his blood-covered weapon. He has to hold them back whatever the price may be.



it’s almost Winter.
Air… cold. Piercing through an empty unmotivated soul.

What are you doing?
Why are you doing it?
Where are you going?
Why are you not going?
Where is your motivation?
Why don’t you have motivation?

You are a soul, in a body; With a mind and feelings, emotions and senses.
But then again no. You feel soulless. Empty.

And the air continues to pierce through you. And you stand there still. Like a marble statue. Getting old and colder as time passes. The change of the weather and age only visible on your appearance.

Marble. Cold and soulless.

Darkest Hour.


This performance called life has been my only and by far the worst performance of myself. Choices made by others, curved my schedule only to end up as disappointments to me and them. Not being able to handle the pressure and their looks; My actions always affected by the worst outcome…



Unbelievable… You are.

Surprisingly disappointing and selfish to the core. Ready answers to unanswered questions, meaningless and depressing realizations made clear, upon every conversation. Either with you or me. The conversationalist always ending up being the second. What a sad realization.

Little red ball.


Maybe, of myself. I didn’t listen to that small voice in the back of my head, warning me.
Maybe NOT.
But, then again;
Should I let myself feel qualms?
Already having found myself in the same situation in the past, my reaction is colder this time. It should be. My vivid crimson ball has been thrown to the ground, in the mud, on the rocks again and again.
Maybe my mistake was who’s hands I trusted it to …
Without a second thought, they threw and kicked my ball far away.
So far away that I have to go fetch it alone, once more; Pick it up with my own two hands and polish it carefully. It will shine again, it always did after I took it in my hands after all. The tears once used to clean the mud have dried up; My intense breathing used to remove the dirt is now serene, And my unsteady heartbeats used to make the color more vivid are now beating in a calm steady rhythm. Instead, a smile curves at the tips of my lips and my eyes shimmer, before the voice whispers again at the back of my head:
“You expected it, right ?”
The smile gets wider, till it turns into a loud laughter.
“You will not do it again in the future, right ?”
I look down at my ball, that has turned into the most vivid and shiniest crimson it had ever been, and I see my smile mirrored on it as it comes to rest on my lips permanently.  Excitement fills my little ball, as I trust in the future and I take my first step into the unknown.
I will always listen to the little voice;
However, I cannot help but feel curious, as to how much more shinier my ball can turn into.