Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses
The moon that splashed it's light over New York seeped through a run down apartments window. The electricity was down and it left him in the dark, just his luck. He had run away here to get away from the band for a while, and he'd been here a week and nothing went right. An ex junkie and a current rockstar. His long black hair, deep brown eyes and long thin nose would define him out from the crowd. The girl next door always kept coming round trying to seduce him, the fat old man below always complaining. He had really had enough. He was slumped in a torn sofa chair just staring out at the New York sky when he heard a knock on his door. He jumped up and didn't even bother buttoning up his shirt.
Opening the door, he sighed as his deep eyes ran down the petite body in front of him. In a tight satin, mini dress. It was red and showed a lot of leg and cleavage. Her bright green eyes were hard to see since her pupils were so dilated and she looked a wreck... a pretty wreck. Her long red hair flowing past her shoulders, in clumps and lumps. She held a candle in the palm of her hands and she looked up to him with pleading eyes.
"What do you want?" he asked, his eyes darting around trying to avoid her gaze.
"Got a light?" her voice came out higher than usual, and her hands trembled.
"I know you..." he raised an eyebrow, recognising her from somewhere. "You're.." He looked her up and down, seeing the goose bumps prickle at her pale skin, and her breath quiver. "You're shivering."
She pushed past him and walked into the apartment, she turned around to face him and put all her weight on one hip. "It's nothing. They turned off my heat and I'm just a little weak.."
He watched as she looked down nervously, but she wasn't the nervous type. "Would you light my candle?" she asked, as he wrapped his old leather jacket around her shoulders, then her eyebrows dropped. "What are you staring at?"
Jumping, he shut the door behind him and rushed beside her. "Nothing! Your hair in the moonlight... you look familiar." he lit a match and torched the candle, and she tipped back slightly, then caught her balance.
"It's okay, I just haven't eaten much today." she reassured him with a devious smile, holding the lit candle between her palms as she twirled around the room, "At least the room stopped spinning anyway- What?" she noticed him looking at her strangely again.
"Nothing!" he jumped for the second time, nervously. "Your smile reminded me of --"
"I always remind people of... who is she?" she asked, turning around and flashing a cocky smile at him.
"She died... her name was Desi." he was saddened by the memory. She, being quick to change the subject blew the candle swiftly.
"It's out again!" she complained. She slowly walked back over to him. "Would you light my candle?"
Once again, he whipped another match stick out and sparked it up, relighting the candle. She looked up, the orange light glinting her face and flashing off her features. She hissed as some of the wax from the candle melted on her fingers. He took her hands in his to inspect the melted wax.
"I like it between my fingers." She said flirtatiously, interlacing her fingers with his. His head snapped up and he took his hand from hers quickly.
"Oh well.." he nervously sighed. "Goodnight."
The girl took the jacket from her shoulders and flung it at him, before turning and heading for the door. As a habit, her hand sweeped her butt area, and she realised she had lost something. The candle blew back out and she stopped in her pace.
"It blew out again?" he was beginning to get tired of her.
"No! I think that I dropped my stash."
"I know I've seen you out and about... your candle's still out." he reminded her as he watched her eyes cautiously look for the little white bag with the white powder in.
"Fuck sake! I'm illin' and I had it when I walked in the door. The pure stuff. Is it on the floor?" She asked as she dropped to her knee's right in front of him, sticking her butt up purposely, feeling his eyes boar into her.
"You know, they say I have the best ass below 14th street... is it true?" she asked as her hands patted around the wooden and stained flooring.
"What?" he was a little taken back.
She craned her head so she could see him stood there, not knowing where to put himself. "You're staring again."
"Oh no!" he tried to recover. "I mean you do-- have a nice-- I mean-- you look familiar."
"Like your dead girlfriend?" she asked. He got down on his all fours to help her look.
"Only when you smile. But I'm sure I've seen you somewhere else--"
She picked up a piece of fluff and threw it to the side. "Do you go to the Cat Scratch Club? That's where I work - I dance."
"Oh yeah!" he smiled. "They used to tie you up--"
"It's a living." she rolled her eyes. She was now knelt up in front of him, "Would you light my candle?"
He did, "Why don't you forget that stuff," he watched as she squinted, the lit candle helping her concentrate on his facial features. "You look like you're sixteen."
"I'm nineteen!" she scoffed, standing up to her feet and he followed. "But I'm old for my age." She tapped her hip against his front, making him stumble slightly before walking away to look. "I'm just born to be bad!"
"I once was born to be bad..." he smiled, watched how she filled out the dress. "I used to shiver like that."
"I have no heat -- I told you!" she whined as she walked round back of a sofa, her eyes scanning the floor.
"I used to sweat."
"I have a cold." she looked on his desk, through the lyric papers.
"uh huh, I used to be a junkie."
She spun on her heels, and cocked her head, walking towards him once more. "But now and then I like to feel good."
He jumped up from being on the floor. "Here it--"
"What's that?" she snapped.
"It's a candy wrapper." he shrugged off, slipping it into his back jean pocket. She walked dangerously close to him, check touching his.
"We could light the candle." she winked, as she reached for his back pocket he blew out the flame. "What'd you do with my candle?"
He sat back on the couch "That was my last match."
She sat on his lap, throwing the candle to the side. "Our eyes will adjust, thank God for the moon."
She took his hands and started playing with them. "Your hands are big... they're like my fathers. Do you wanna dance?" it was more of an order, than a question as she dragged him up from the couch and pulled him into a space where there weren't any cramped furniture.
"With you?" he asked.
"No." she sarcastically laughed. "With my father."
"I'm Izzy." he smiled.
"They call me.." she circled him, and slipped her small fingers into his back pocket, taking the packet from him without him knowing. "They call me Laurie."
She flaunted the pack she'd stolen off of him before turning and strutting out of the door, leaving Izzy intrigued by her. He wanted to save her... he wanted her.
Opening the door, he sighed as his deep eyes ran down the petite body in front of him. In a tight satin, mini dress. It was red and showed a lot of leg and cleavage. Her bright green eyes were hard to see since her pupils were so dilated and she looked a wreck... a pretty wreck. Her long red hair flowing past her shoulders, in clumps and lumps. She held a candle in the palm of her hands and she looked up to him with pleading eyes.
"What do you want?" he asked, his eyes darting around trying to avoid her gaze.
"Got a light?" her voice came out higher than usual, and her hands trembled.
"I know you..." he raised an eyebrow, recognising her from somewhere. "You're.." He looked her up and down, seeing the goose bumps prickle at her pale skin, and her breath quiver. "You're shivering."
She pushed past him and walked into the apartment, she turned around to face him and put all her weight on one hip. "It's nothing. They turned off my heat and I'm just a little weak.."
He watched as she looked down nervously, but she wasn't the nervous type. "Would you light my candle?" she asked, as he wrapped his old leather jacket around her shoulders, then her eyebrows dropped. "What are you staring at?"
Jumping, he shut the door behind him and rushed beside her. "Nothing! Your hair in the moonlight... you look familiar." he lit a match and torched the candle, and she tipped back slightly, then caught her balance.
"It's okay, I just haven't eaten much today." she reassured him with a devious smile, holding the lit candle between her palms as she twirled around the room, "At least the room stopped spinning anyway- What?" she noticed him looking at her strangely again.
"Nothing!" he jumped for the second time, nervously. "Your smile reminded me of --"
"I always remind people of... who is she?" she asked, turning around and flashing a cocky smile at him.
"She died... her name was Desi." he was saddened by the memory. She, being quick to change the subject blew the candle swiftly.
"It's out again!" she complained. She slowly walked back over to him. "Would you light my candle?"
Once again, he whipped another match stick out and sparked it up, relighting the candle. She looked up, the orange light glinting her face and flashing off her features. She hissed as some of the wax from the candle melted on her fingers. He took her hands in his to inspect the melted wax.
"I like it between my fingers." She said flirtatiously, interlacing her fingers with his. His head snapped up and he took his hand from hers quickly.
"Oh well.." he nervously sighed. "Goodnight."
The girl took the jacket from her shoulders and flung it at him, before turning and heading for the door. As a habit, her hand sweeped her butt area, and she realised she had lost something. The candle blew back out and she stopped in her pace.
"It blew out again?" he was beginning to get tired of her.
"No! I think that I dropped my stash."
"I know I've seen you out and about... your candle's still out." he reminded her as he watched her eyes cautiously look for the little white bag with the white powder in.
"Fuck sake! I'm illin' and I had it when I walked in the door. The pure stuff. Is it on the floor?" She asked as she dropped to her knee's right in front of him, sticking her butt up purposely, feeling his eyes boar into her.
"You know, they say I have the best ass below 14th street... is it true?" she asked as her hands patted around the wooden and stained flooring.
"What?" he was a little taken back.
She craned her head so she could see him stood there, not knowing where to put himself. "You're staring again."
"Oh no!" he tried to recover. "I mean you do-- have a nice-- I mean-- you look familiar."
"Like your dead girlfriend?" she asked. He got down on his all fours to help her look.
"Only when you smile. But I'm sure I've seen you somewhere else--"
She picked up a piece of fluff and threw it to the side. "Do you go to the Cat Scratch Club? That's where I work - I dance."
"Oh yeah!" he smiled. "They used to tie you up--"
"It's a living." she rolled her eyes. She was now knelt up in front of him, "Would you light my candle?"
He did, "Why don't you forget that stuff," he watched as she squinted, the lit candle helping her concentrate on his facial features. "You look like you're sixteen."
"I'm nineteen!" she scoffed, standing up to her feet and he followed. "But I'm old for my age." She tapped her hip against his front, making him stumble slightly before walking away to look. "I'm just born to be bad!"
"I once was born to be bad..." he smiled, watched how she filled out the dress. "I used to shiver like that."
"I have no heat -- I told you!" she whined as she walked round back of a sofa, her eyes scanning the floor.
"I used to sweat."
"I have a cold." she looked on his desk, through the lyric papers.
"uh huh, I used to be a junkie."
She spun on her heels, and cocked her head, walking towards him once more. "But now and then I like to feel good."
He jumped up from being on the floor. "Here it--"
"What's that?" she snapped.
"It's a candy wrapper." he shrugged off, slipping it into his back jean pocket. She walked dangerously close to him, check touching his.
"We could light the candle." she winked, as she reached for his back pocket he blew out the flame. "What'd you do with my candle?"
He sat back on the couch "That was my last match."
She sat on his lap, throwing the candle to the side. "Our eyes will adjust, thank God for the moon."
She took his hands and started playing with them. "Your hands are big... they're like my fathers. Do you wanna dance?" it was more of an order, than a question as she dragged him up from the couch and pulled him into a space where there weren't any cramped furniture.
"With you?" he asked.
"No." she sarcastically laughed. "With my father."
"I'm Izzy." he smiled.
"They call me.." she circled him, and slipped her small fingers into his back pocket, taking the packet from him without him knowing. "They call me Laurie."
She flaunted the pack she'd stolen off of him before turning and strutting out of the door, leaving Izzy intrigued by her. He wanted to save her... he wanted her.
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