Foot of The Cross
09-14-2013, 07:00 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-14-2013, 07:02 PM by Karmen.)
The stranger would be daft to believe that Karmen did not note the miniscule details of him: his quiet puffing and snorting at the girl struck a wrong chord inside of her chasm. Her gaze slightly narrowed as arrogance painted across her once-charming facade. He was belittling her without saying a word, unimpressed by her impish size and feminine integrity, like she was a child, a pathetic and meager puppy. She pivoted her petite, nymph-like body, curling her upper lip in a snide scowl of disappointment. "Come now, someone of your caliber should know better than to judge a book by it's cover." The peridots that bejeweled her face rolled in their sockets, a small smirk replacing the sour expression that had molded her ever-beautiful features."And you stand in the presence of a queen, destined to reign." As much as he ruffled her lace, she couldn't help but eat the distance between them. She moved closer to him, wishing to stand parallel to his godly mass, wanting the friction to play between their skin. The man before her, still nameless, still just a shape, craved the same power as she did, although he was fermenting in wrath - she was a polar opposite, feeding the succubus inside of her, assuaging her need for physical admiration and loyal peons. She wanted it all: a man worthy of the title of demi-god, a kingdom of riches and endowment, and the world at her disposal. And if anyone had the nerve to tell her no, she would be the shepherd that led the lambs to slaughter. talking to you |
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