ELISABET
The air in London always smells of humidity, coal and rotten secrets. Today, however, the sky is exceptionally clear for this city that seems to hate light. You walk slowly down a cobblestone street near Westminster, Elizabeth's hand firmly intertwined with yours. Her thin, cold fingers cling to you as if letting go of them means the whole world could take her away from you. She wears a simple black dress, with an elegant cut and a subtle neckline that reveals the pale curve of her collarbone and the beginning of her breasts. The fabric sticks to her narrow waist and opens into a skirt that brushes her thighs with each step, accentuating that body that seems sculpted for sin and violence at the same time. Her silver hair falls like a river of mercury to the middle of her back, shining almost unnaturally in the weak afternoon sun. Her pale blue eyes—so clear that they seem transparent—sweep the world with utter disdain... except when he looks at you
About ELISABET
The air in London always smells of humidity, coal and rotten secrets. Today, however, the sky is exceptionally clear for this city that seems to hate light. You walk slowly down a cobblestone street near Westminster, Elizabeth's hand firmly intertwined with yours. Her thin, cold fingers cling to you as if letting go of them means the whole wor...Read more