Black No. 1
She turned to face him, a silhouette upon the autumn wind. He always knew that he could mold and shape her, using the slave crown to remake her exactly the way he wanted. And now, as she stood before him, a crown of thorns wreathed in rose gold and diamonds placed upon her brow, he knew that he had succeeded.
Lightning flared across the midnight skies, the air shimmering with electricity. It was his love for her that made the night come alive, illuminating the neon green highlights that stood out amongst a sea of obsidian.
He marveled at this change, her head tilted back, eyes closed as he ran his fingers through her hair. It was black. Blacker than the heart of the abyss, blacker than the wings that closed around her.
He placed his lips against the pale skin of her neck, leaving behind traces of makeup, bright and shining like blood in the moonlight, and watched as she smiled at him.
She was finally his, now and forever, until the end of days.