|•| DESIRÉE DOYLE |•|“Are you sure you'd be fine on your own?” Iris squinted her eyes at me worriedly. I couldn't fight back the urge to roll my eyes at how dramatic she was acting. It was very ironic that I was the one who ought to be freaking out about her—not like I am not—and not the other way around.I wish I could say that she had learnt to tone down her protectiveness when it comes to me but she hasn't. If anything, it only got worse.“Iris,” I groaned at the dark-haired girl whose face was splayed on the screen of my phone. “This is like the fifth time you are calling me today and I have barely had three classes. Aren't you even supposed to be resting or your cramps have found a way to feel less deadly?” I queried her, drowning out the noise that was coming from the students hanging around the hallways in the background as I weaselled my way through the sea of crowds.“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes, pulling the covers up to her chest. “I just feel really guilty that I couldn'
|•| ANDRÉ BAUDELAIRE |•|The prominent golden glow of the sun that hung low on the horizon kissed her skin with a subtlety that made my breath hitch as my fingers darted up to her palm to interlock themselves with her fingers while I kept her in place with my other palm resting on the small of her back.It was like gazing at an artistic piece with the way the lavender, red, and orange streaks of hue were scattered across the surface of the clouds, bathing the garden of peonies in its colourful glow. The burst of colours reflected on the soft pink colour of the flowers, syncing with the colour of her blush pink tulle dress.Her eyes were as bewitching as they were striking, appearing to be the only contrasting feature in her appearance because the sea of electric blue shone like a reflection of light on glass. Her hair was swept around one side of her neck, beaming a shade of golden-orange under the setting sun.As I allowed my eyes to linger on her collarbone, zeroing in on her neck a
|•| ANDRÉ BAUDELAIRE |•|I wouldn't do that if I were you.”The tenderness of the sinister voice that came up behind me made my eyes flit to the mirror where I caught sight of the familiar dark-haired witch behind me. Her dark hair was in a lush cascade, syncing with her black dress and lips that were coated in dark lipstick. She locked like some regal dark force from a fairytale book—a dark angel perched on my left shoulder.“What's happening?” I asked, my voice brittled.“Isn't it obvious?” she arched a brow at me, pushing me to own up to the greatest sins I had ever committed.“No, no, no, no!” I growled, clearing the vanity table in one sweep. I let out a gut-wrenching scream, gripping the edge of the vanity table tightly. My breath came out in unstable puffs.“You killed her.”She divulged those words and they hit me with a renewed sense of force that punctured me like a swift stab to the chest. I spun around, my eyes catching her cold, still, and bloodied frame on the bed. Shive
|•| DESIRÉE DOYLE |•|“I have loved you for a thousand years, Evangeline! Do you really think that one weak, scrawny human is going to suddenly come into the picture and ruin all that? Our never-ending cycle of reincarnation proves that we are meant for each other. How can you not see that?!” “No, no, no. Something is missing about the tone.” I groaned, pushing aside the jotting pad in my hands.Who knew writing a love confession would be this hard? My heart sank as I cancelled out the dialogue I had just written for the umpteenth time. I had been at this for days, hoping to nail the effect I was going for but every dialogue found a way to be different. The inconsistency in their pattern was hindering me from figuring out the one thing that was missing in that conversation.'Maybe it's a break you need' My subconscious chipped in its unsolicited opinion.“I can't take a break. I don't want to take a break.” I muttered harshly in response as though it were here.'Or you just don't wa
|•| DESIRÉE DOYLE |•|The large grin on Iris’ face as she allowed the talk brunette to whisk her to a quieter hallway in the club mirrored the one on my face as I twirled my halfly-filled martini glass in my hands. I knew I had nothing to worry about and I knew she could take care of herself should the need arise, so there was nothing to worry about.She would never follow a guy she thought she couldn't handle if things went wrong.A lazy look was etched on my face as my eyes swept every inch of the space buzzing with an ear-splitting music from the background and the flashy neon lights that covered the wide expanse of the room, soaking everything and anyone in a colourful hue.The boredom perched on my shoulders made me glad about the fact that she was having fun way more than I was. At least, one of us didn't leave here miserable.I whirled around in my seat, turning to the bartender and chugging the remaining Martini down my throat. I pushed the glass towards him, flashing him a ch
|•| DESIRÉE DOYLE |•|It was funny how the darkness was one thing most of us were terrified of as kids but as we grew older, it became our escape. It became a form of solitude to cling to whenever we needed to get away from the outside world.Like I was currently doing.I didn't know if I had willingly immersed myself into oblivion but whatever it was, it was still, quiet and my mind felt absent. There was a sense of relief that was attached to being here. I got to hide away from the things I didn't want to think about or confront and I knew I could hang in here for as long as I wanted, denying the nightmare that had now become my reality.But even a feeling like this was fleeting because a stubborn invisible force incessantly tugged at me, wanting to yank me awake. At first, it was easy to resist but it was as though it knew that the more I lingered here, the more I retreated into my unconscious mind.Thus, when my eyes fluttered open, as slowly as they could ever be, and they connec
|•| ANDRÉ BAUDELAIRE |•|I could almost taste the relief on my tongue when I crept out of the shadows and saw the lights on in her room. My forehead automatically creased into a frown because, again, her windows weren't locked and her curtains were lazily pulled together, plunging my body into a reflex that made me clench my hands in a tight fist. But then, it soon dawned on me that my sense of protectiveness and anger right now was useless because my nature had driven a long-lasting wedge between us.I shut out those thoughts and moved swiftly across the street, closing the distance between the tree I was hiding behind and her apartment in a matter of seconds. A trail of excitement mixed with nervousness shot up my spine as I pushed the sheer curtains aside, but it was nothing compared to the satisfaction that filled me up when I caught her scent that lingered in the room.It came with a sense of newness that left me starving for more. It was as though I hadn't smelt her in ages when
|•|DESIRÉE DOYLE|•|“It's just paint.”“It's just paint,” I mumbled to myself, scrubbing my hands obsessively under the running water. My breath broke, tears filling up my eyes at my hopeless attempts to get the crimson splatters on my hands, smearing my weeks-old nails.It was like the harder I scrubbed, the more stubborn the stain grew.I couldn't decipher whether to be angry at the fine arts student who accidentally threw paint on me or direct my focus on getting the Goddamned stain away from my hands.“It's just paint. Get. Your. Act. Together. It's paint, fuck it!” I screamed, gripping the edge of the sink harshly. My frustration punched an ugly sob out of me, tears cascading my face in thick beads. I bit down on my lips which were coated in matte nude lipstick to submerge my sobs but the taste of the beauty product only spread through my mouth.I turned off the faucet, my hands rocking with tremors. Loud sniffs emitted from me, filling up the bathroom. I looked down at my staine