Gothgirlfriends - Nika Venom - Enjoys Passionat... Link

"Passion isn't loud to me," she said, finally pressing her palm flat against your chest, right over your heart. "It's this. A slow, deliberate pressure until something cracks."

Nika Venom

Nika Venom didn't chase. She allowed .

She reached out, not to touch your face, but to brush a stray hair from your collar. Her knuckles grazed your jugular — deliberately.

From the doorway, you watched her. The way the silver rings on her fingers caught the candlelight. The sharp line of her black eyeliner, winging out like a raven's feather. The faintest hint of a fang when she bit her lower lip, lost in a stanza about decay and desire. 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.

"Chaos," she whispered. "But only the beautiful kind. The kind that breaks the clock. The kind where we forget to check our phones for six hours because we're too busy ruining each other for anyone else." "Passion isn't loud to me," she said, finally

She finally looked up. Her eyes weren't black, as the rumors said. They were the deep, bruised purple of a storm cloud at twilight. And right now, they were focused entirely on you.

She stood. The leather of her corset creaked. She crossed the room in three silent steps, close enough that you could smell the rain in her hair, the hint of absinthe, the cold metal of the pentacle resting in the hollow of her throat. She allowed

"You're staring again," she said, not looking up. Her voice was low, a contralto that vibrated like a cello string pulled too tight.