He studied the curvature of her body as she slipped her red dress off of her hips. As it slid down her waist and dropped to the ground, she entered into a defenseless, naked state of submissiveness. Mascara flooding down her animated eyes, she hid her woeful tears of dismay, dripping down her cheekbones and onto her freckled chest. His grip was tightly wrapped around her throat as she begged for him to constrict harder. Closing tight those bloodshot eyes, fingertip recollections swamped her senses, playing over in her head like a memorable melody. The fear, the passion, the discomfort, the danger, the erotica of it all. Large pupils of black pierced into his soul as he began to see red; beautiful, violent, and vulgar. She brought chaos into a world of tranquility, turning soft whispers into savage screams. Getting trashed off of the idea of tormented agony, his static palms compressed her bruised biceps. Pushed down against cold sheets, her wax-stain covered skin turned frail. Love hurts in a bleeding shade of red and massacres every bone in the luckless ones who happen to cross its path. Her poison was strawberry knees and the thorns of roses. Their tainted love was a losing game, an explicit romance of repression as they immortalized their twisted fate and she became the nightmare to his arousing fantasy.