Yapping

“You’re beautiful” 

“You’re grotesque.” 

“Take my hand, will you?” 

“You’ve already taken mine, тупица.” 

I stepped forward, taking her hand in mine as we swayed around the cold tile floor. Our heels clicked, echoing in the empty, putrid room. A smile plastered itself across my lips, my free hand latched onto her waist. I felt her gaze stab right through me. I could feel the utter, distinguished repulsion in her gaze. My cold hand pressed against her warm, nimble fingers; my left intertwining with her right. We danced in an eerie silence, shifting back & forth, side to side as the chandeliers illuminated the now empty halls around us. 

The scent of rotting flesh hit my nose. It was a pleasing scent to me. However, I believe it only added to her disdain; a grimace in her narrowed eyes and scrunched up nose. 

“You’re beautiful, милый.” I chimed, my eyes slowly trailing down her toned yet delicate figure. “That color suits you.” I trailed a hand down the fabric of her flowing gown, before running my fingers through my hair. A red, sticky, matted streak now coated my bangs. “Red suits you much more. White’s too pure for you.” a slight chuckle spilled from my lips. 

She obviously found no amusements in my charms, as her tone grew hostile and bitter. She swung her hand at me, earning a stinging sensation on my cheek. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Natasha. Don’t act coy with everything you’ve done.” She hissed; her teeth slightly bared as her glare shot through my skull. I raised my thumb, gently caressing my now faintly bruised cheek. Usually, I’d shudder at the sound of her bristling tone. But now? I could feel my heart spike with an unknown feeling, a feeling I’ve learnt to cherish. 

[EWWWWW I feel like an A03 writer ts is so like- cringy in a way.]