A story in which a mafia falls for a con artist.
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"You're starting to make me feel, Violet. You make me feel." he breaths out, "And I'm afraid of the boundaries I'm willing to break for you."
"So are you, Taehyung." she l...
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『••✎••』
Oh my sweet suffering
I stir the sky night and day
I dance with the wind, the rain
A bit of love, a bit of honey
And I dance, dance, dance, dance, and in the noise,
I run and I'm scared
Is it my turn?
- Dernière Danse, Indila
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Her body swayed to the music as she perfectly balanced herself on her toes, her right hand gracefully held the sword, that was rusty yet sharp enough to slit a throat.
Her face carried no expression as she let her body lose on the rhythm of the music that played in the room covered in white. A very unique style of dancing it was.
Her delicate moves equaled the sharp movement of the sword that swirled in her hands. Her white flowy skirt waving as she spins, her hands behind her back, along with the sword. As if trying to hide the weapon from herself.
Her skin was as soft as the petals, her cat-like eyes carried a very unique color, violet, a shade of purple. Just like her name, Lim Violette.
Her long dark hair danced to its own flow, giving her the look of an angel, while the sword resembled death.
Like an Angel carrying Death, she seemed. Delicate yet deadly.
Her pink lips turned into a small smile as she murmurs, "Oh ma douce souffrance,(Oh my Sweet suffering)."
As the music got fast, her movements became quick. She gracefully ended her dance with a brilliant fouette.
Her face craned upwards, her smile carried a strange pain in them. As if her soul was buried, defeated, torn apart. Yet her eyes carried no tears in them.
She whispers,
"Est-ce mon tour?(Is it my turn?)"
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