deep blue irises fixated on him with a sense of curiosity that she couldn’t hide & the gentle stirring in the pit of her stomach made her gravitate towards him more ——- she was aware of the infamous Mr. J and the influences he had on the streets of Gotham, but what she didn’t understand was why he was currently speaking to her so open and casually. For he was a man of control who took extreme pride in his appearances ;; talking to her, the previous doctor known as Harleen Quinzel, was sure to gain him some unwanted feedback.— A playful banter was encouraged by a small peek in her crimson lips while a sly finger pushed a piece of her sunny hair behind her ear.
delicate hues slid down his frame unapologetically while lush thighs pressed together under the bar’s table. was he aware of the affect he had on her, or was it something he normally did to people in his atmosphere ? for he is the deepest & darkest of the stormiest seas ; unpredictable, violent, destructive, possessive & she was nothing but a fragile flower caught in his aftermath. his pride would not let him leave her alone, and she could feel in her deepest depths that he would not stop until he owned her. she felt a need to challenge this ; for although she was fragile, she was a hurricane destined to destroy any owner or master that attempted to tame her…..but she wanted him to try. —— “it’s never any fun if it’s given to you mistah j.” she taunts lightly while rising from her seat. fueled by her poison she takes one last sip of her drink. “earn it.” she shrugs allowing the empty glass to seek shelter on the bar once more.
Baby blues fixate, lingering in languid leches. Prematurely tethered.
It drawls a mirth along a mouthing. Metallic bares through split scarlet.
Chiselled cracks, coloured with chrome fill the split. It spreads, smearing
and marring pallid planes. Cheek to cheek, a saturation spills.
A colouring bold against desaturated skin.
A lascivious façade cements, spurred on by kittenish moves. Curls lifted behind ears,
baby blues trailing, a lift of lips. An intent thinly veiled. A pretty and
wrapped parcel of intrigue, he aim’s to unwrap. To seek out the essence of the other
and replace it with his own, as septic sampling of a self. To leave only a tarnished essence,
to claim and crumple. To leave such a pretty thing rotting.
Mercury hues lavish the lacquered veneer, all to perfectly polished,
something itches at the provocation it crafts.
Words once more amuse. A quirky doll, all too alluringly brazen.
A guttural drag lies an immediate response, an acknowledgement of a twittered taunt.
Set shoulders shift, the slight figure saunters sinuously seeking out the bar.
A few allotted moments tick (amber liquor is drained), before languid limbs lithely tail.
A figure slinks, fingers covet curves. Seeking softened dips along sides.
Before ink ridden digits clutch a waist, pallid palms possessively splayed.
A presence shadows, smeared sets of scarlet line a shell, heavy husky breaths,
foreword. Before lowly etched lettering leaks over highly hooked coloured edges.
vaporwave
kaledo-art
izzy806
baratheonpilled
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto
origamiaround
