A/N: A short, inside glimpse of a gothic romance that I wrote a while ago, because after all… too much of those just aren't enough.
We were never like them, were we love?
Ghouls of the sidewalk, dressed in black, we pondered the days away like daydreaming children. A cigarette draped between your fingers, you'd smile, a wave of somber bliss across a darkened plain. My darkened plain.
The gravel crunched under your boots as we sat there, remaining on the street curb. I love you like this. Could you always see the what lied beyond the suburban houses? Expensive cars and other luxuries could never hold a candle to you, as did a lighter to your non mentholated smokes. And so fluttered in the air on toxic wings like a seer's vision; contentment unharmed by poisonous gas.
A slight breeze rushed down the street, swaying your black locks as a chill rushed through me: you sensed this. Without a second thought, the manners of a gentleman took the stage as you wrapped your trench coat around me, dark like the bottom of a well. I smiled. You felt my cold without me saying a word, true wonderment.
Tell me, are you a mind reader, or do you just know me better than I know myself? I wouldn't be surprised if it was both, the way your eyes haunted my sleep like a child's fairy tale. Peering into my thoughts. Irresistibly so.
You took my hand and helped me up, running a finger across my flaxen braids. You must have known what shivers this sent up my spine, for you gave that cheshire cat grin again, fanged and pearly white. What words could have slipped from those teeth that could make me quiver like a violin string? What kiss could I plant that burns itself into your memory like a match stick?
I'll show you.