#syredfirst

    “            𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐰𝐚𝐬  𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭  𝐢  𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝.          “              𝘯𝘰𝘸  𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺  𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵  𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴    ;          bitter  and  growing  like  briar  amongst  the  roses  of  a  bush—      such  beauty  entangled  with  thorny  pain,      a  well  knit  analogy  for  the  harshness  of  words  ability  to  puncture  even  the  most  kindfull  of  faces.              “        if  you  wanted  to  talk  you  should’ve  talked  before  your  master  or  whatever  you  call  him,    left  me  in  the  trash.          “

“         my   ,            aren’t   we   lucky   tonight?                  that   such            a   pretty   face         has   graced   us   with   his   presence.            “                                 a   mixture   of            business   and   pleasure,               they   often      tip-toed   the   line   between   the   two.               it   certainly   made   everything   much   more   fun.         what   he   mostly   enjoyed   about   this   arrangement   was         a   mutual   understanding.         neither   minding   that   the   other   planned   to   use   them   relentlessly.         the   warlock   slides   in   the   v.i.p      booth   beside   the   other,         leaving   minimal   space   between.               “         can   bela   get   you   anything?      o   negative?         a   fresh   vein?         i’d   offer         my   own,            but   i   don’t   think   you’ve   quite   earned   that   yet.      “