There he was. The man who had been watching me. I was stood before him, his sharp suit, charming smile and intriguing eyes. I couldn't decide what to think of him. He was trouble, but I liked it. He stepped towards me. "May I have this dance?" He asked, holding out a hand before I even agreed, but I did agree. Just as I did, his slick, black hair became red horns, his charming smile became a sneer, and the room around me became a harsh and furious fire. Hell. I was dancing with the devil. And I loved it.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.20 seconds at 7:18am on Apr 19, 2024 via server web1.
Log in to Leave Feedback
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
