That scent she threw off was not anything by Chanel. Unless they’d recently added a Tragedy line.
Tore up from the floor up. Followed by a big outtie. John Mathew
Her bra was cotton and white and, bless its little frickin´ heart, had a front clasp.
You don't know this yet. But you are Mine - Wrath
When you were the son of evil, there was little you couldn't do, own, or kill, and yet her mortal self was an elusive trophy he could touch, but not put on his shelf. This made her rare. This made her precious. This made him...love her.
One shot. That was all you got. - Isaac