Trial of Flame
Lips, glossy, violet black perfection.
When I stepped out, the boys wolf whistled in unison.
“Holy hell,” Zephyr muttered. “We’re not going to make it to breakfast, are we?”
“Oh, you are,” I teased. “But you're gonna suffer through it.”
I twirled, letting the hem of my deep purple hoodie dress flip up just enough to tease. A silver skull sparkled on the chest, matching my combat boots. Fishnets completed the look because, obviously. I don’t do subtle.
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