dior levaux d2 { cb fin

[calla]

d i o r .

sixteen . gang baby
thunder clouds & diamond rings
( it's only fun until someone gets stabbed )
x

cb 2/2 from the birthday bash

[calla]

you were born with a hangover. cigarette burns and rose petals floating in lighter fluid;

your blood has always been flammable.

surrounded by dimmed lights and red faces, half shadowed with whisky and smoke and something else that makes your stomach
f
  a
    l
      l

you grow up away from the street, taken in like a stray under the cover of debt collectors. but this business is no place for a soft kid like you.
they call you an angel; something holy.

something pure.

but you've burnt wing feathers and bent halos.

your hands are dirty too.

and there are no second chances here, no blessed chances of redemption and you've long been cast down from heaven, falling
d   o   w   n

because you're no better than the rest of them.

it's normal, you say to yourself the first time it happens, just another job. and the lights flicker when you're in and out of bed, counting the amount of dollars unpaid long past midnight.

( the witching hours. )

you wait.

the world stills.

and then ivory is cracking against the floorboards, roses blooming like spring and a knife is slipping,
f a l l i n g
from hand to stomach
in self defense.

or at least,

that's what you tell yourself.

[d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi]

literally obsessed with this and you xoxo