THAT BOY MIGHT BE THE WORST, BUT DAMN HE LOOKS FINE… The wind howled on the other side of the stained window, the breeze a brisk cold against it’s glass as the air from within steamed it up ever so slightly. You chest heaved, a figure beside you sat up and getting dressed, cigarette already light and it’s ash sprinkling onto your bare skin.

Your one night stand wasn’t too keen on staying long. Your skin stick to him, keeping him close in a nasty glue trap, as if he were a fly. Debatably, it might’ve been the best night of your life. Despite the smoke that infiltrated your lungs, the skin trapped under your finger nails from scratching his back. But you were tired, exhausted, body spent and drained dry… Literally. Bite marks dirtied your skin and the few that broke skin surely didn’t aid you in their dripping of small traces of blood. Your legs going limp while shaking as your eyes shut for the night, ending with a soft blow of smoke from the man above you.

By morning the space beside you was empty. Your skin still sticky, the space between your legs essentially cemented together. Body sore and your bite marks scabbing once the blood dried. Not a tiny bit of aftercare, but Andrew sat at the other end of the bed, right in kicking distance.. Knife in hand, just how you found him previously, before this affair. He clearly looked ready to disappear, forget about this quick one night stand.. But why should he? When you’ve got the money to support him.. He pondered his performance the night before, was it good enough for you to keep him around? And lord was he disgusted with his own choice, to be a boy-toy— Yours specifically, and sell his body for a life away from his dead sister, Ashley. Killed by his own hands.