Fantasia

Leona Pierce was deeply obsessed with color black. Just like her soul, she lived in darkness. The stubborn little fire always had reasons to despise the world and unleash the hell, but when Tayson Huxley decided to splash his tints on her soul, she couldn't come up with an excuse to hate him. 
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Leona Pierce-heartless and detached artisan who lurked behind the colors and the ink carved on her skin. The messy soul who was fighting the demons of her mind stumbles upon Tayson Huxley.
  
Tayson Huxley-The man epitome of desire, arrogance, and pure sex. Both found themselves trapped in their own little bubble, knowing that it would fusillade with time. When the fire and storm cross paths, the fuse of hatred, stubbornness, little ego games, and undeniable chemistry leads to the explosion of something that none of them wants in their life.

Was this the game of resistance? Or the game of love? Will Leona win against the charmer, Tayson? Or will Tayson lose his heart to win her?

The Pretty Witch

The frail incandescence irradiated on her aurulent skin and shredded an irritating sigh through her hot nude lips. 


The sleek tuft of pitch-black winter hair gracefully descended over her hips as she peeked at the flaming star with a nasty glare. The devil inside her wanted to kick the sun away from this world, and probably many would thank her for that. 


"Fuck you. Just go away," she asserted to the poor sun and hooked her sunglasses. 


In the past eight days in Huxley Visions, the rooftop had been her best friend. Nothing worth mentioning stirred for a while. All she did in her unwanted office was fantasize about her next painting. 


"Whoever said painting is easy, I want to smack them into a black hole. Assholes think it's lenient to learn the shades of colors, imagine a piece, and carve it down. Easy? My ass." She scoffed, again scumming herself into the habit of talking alone. 


21| Choke me?