Logan had been lovely ever since Melaine set foot on Manta Carlos. He'd latched onto her like a predator with sharp claws, sunk them deep in her skin, and like every Greek tragic hero, she fell for it — fell for him — headlong and without thought for consequence. Oh, Melaine was aware of the possibility of getting hurt. Logan was too smooth and too determined to get on her good side, built himself up to be desirable to her like a well-crafted machine, but the feeling of being in love was so much like sunshine and roses that she was willing to throw caution to the wind, or at least, just to the back burner. It was fine, it was fine. Melaine was the sun. If she got burned, she'd burn him right back.
Melaine held onto Logan's arm like a vice as they walked out of the restaurant and into the night. The scent of death splashed her face alongside the cold breeze, and she turned instinctively to watch where it came from. Time seemed to move in slow motion as she made eye contact with a man in a car, face pale and blue veins climbing around his skin, as if nature couldn't wait to have his blood spilled on the earth. The following sequence moved extremely fast: A car crash, a bright light, an ungodly blood splatter and the sound of a shrieking woman. Melaine's pupils dilated as she stared at his organs and blood splattered all over the car, the wall and the pavement. The man was of a diminutive stature, but his entrails trailed on for what seemed like miles.
Melaine stumbled in her step, rattled. Hunger vibrated in her stomach, in her head, the very tips of her fingers. She was drooling a little. She reached out to touch Logan's arm to keep herself study, wanting nothing but for him to drag her out of there because she didn't trust herself in these situations.
Melaine held onto Logan's arm like a vice as they walked out of the restaurant and into the night. The scent of death splashed her face alongside the cold breeze, and she turned instinctively to watch where it came from. Time seemed to move in slow motion as she made eye contact with a man in a car, face pale and blue veins climbing around his skin, as if nature couldn't wait to have his blood spilled on the earth. The following sequence moved extremely fast: A car crash, a bright light, an ungodly blood splatter and the sound of a shrieking woman. Melaine's pupils dilated as she stared at his organs and blood splattered all over the car, the wall and the pavement. The man was of a diminutive stature, but his entrails trailed on for what seemed like miles.
Melaine stumbled in her step, rattled. Hunger vibrated in her stomach, in her head, the very tips of her fingers. She was drooling a little. She reached out to touch Logan's arm to keep herself study, wanting nothing but for him to drag her out of there because she didn't trust herself in these situations.