Petals on the bed that is my Grave

A toast to us.

In our hands champagne glasses, this is after all a celebration.

Keeping eye contact, both anxiously excited about what the rest of the night holds we take the first sip.

The smell of the crimson coloured liquid, a metallic ting, like raw iron and earth. It tastes the way it smells with faint sweetness I wasn't expecting.

Its perfect. I finally understand why vampires are unapologetic. 

He's ordering for me; our starter is "brain", human is best I am told. Its been smoked with mind numbing gas. Goes perfect with the "blood" in our glasses. The main course is the chefs signature dish, spiked "heart" laced with feelings and seasoned with a hint of emotion and my favourite dessert, "souls" baked at low heat and glazed with caramel sauce, served on a plate of illusion. It couldn't be more perfect if Cinderellas' godmother planned it herself.

Fast forward into the night, high on blood, I mean wine. Full on hearty chunks of premium human flesh and organ we are home. His home. I've been here before but tonight is special. We have waited a long time for this, 31 days to be exact. I have lingerie on, got it for this occasion, blades disguised as pieces of silk and lace woven to look like a layer of skin. I have never looked more dangerous-ly desirable. He's looking at me, peels his eyes away for a second to look at the box of condoms beside the bed, or was that a shovel? 

He reaches out to touch me and pierces a large hole in my shoulder, Edward Scissor-hands? His other hand reaches out to stroke my hair and the axe he holds pierces a hole at the base of my skull. With every touch I bleed but I cant think, left my mind on the dinner table and the rest of it still trying to find its way inside of me. The chef lied when he said the illusion wasn't potent because I still believe I am living a fairytale. My skin drenched with liquid that cannot be blood because I had that with my dinner, I reach out to return his touch. Draped in blades I slice him on impact. We are at war. Killing each other with every touch, tearing flesh and breaking each other limb by limb. Its okay though, this is why "soul" remains my favourite dessert. But wait, before we take each others breathe away, let take the shovel beside the bed and dig our graves. 

PS. this is us today. Satisfying our carnal mind at the expense of our souls.