The gray smoke escaped her lips in ringlets that hung in the air before being blown away by the cold night air. The warmth of the smoke changing the pale pink of her lips to a healthier rose color.
Closing her eyes she wasn't surprised by the sudden pressure on her hips as he took his hands and rested them there. His hot breath caressing her neck, causing a delicious shiver to run through her body. A moan escaped without her consent and he pressed her against him, drinking in her scent.
It was the only request she ever made to him and he had never complied. She had done so much for him. Stolen for him, killed for him. And he never complied. It was a nightly ritual that she had followed since she met his eyes in the dark of Harajuku three years ago. Around the same time a mysterious serial killer had been announced to the public. And her heart, body and mind were just waiting, screaming for that ritual to be broken.
Ever since he first held her the scent of cinnamon always hung around her like a cloud. It's spicy sweet heat reminding her of his touch and causing her body to react appropriately. This scent overcame her as he turned her to face him, his arms still wrapped around her waist.
"You want me to kiss you?"
Slowly he leaned in, pressing his mouth to hers in a harsh meeting of their lips. His grip on her had hardened and she started to struggle against him.
That was when he plunged the knife into her back.