Song prompt : Señorita, but I used this amazing cover lol. Check it out.

Warnings : implicit mature content.

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Venus, she wanted me to call her. After the goddess? I had asked. She laughed, because back then I did not know how right and how wrong I was.

Venus, my love. Venus, my pride. Venus, my fire, my fuel, my... ecstacy.

We met on a Friday, on one of the hottest days that year had seen. It was around midnight – you know, my time. I saw her from across the bar, she was wearing a golden dress that hugged her close (I had never been jealous of a piece of cloth before).

Alluring doesn't quite capture her but that is the word I'll use now, for your understanding. Alluring, her scent, her smile, her voice. I still remember the way she wore her mascara that night, the thin silver bracelet circling her wrist, and the red of her lips – the exact shade of blood (and trust me, I know).

Call me Venus, she had panted as we made love, her deep black hair forming a halo around her crown. And I called her Venus, and I worshipped her. And then I dug my teeth into her throat and drank in... ecstacy. Or as you call it, ichor. Blood of the gods.

She didn't look like a god, but then again, none of us had ever seen one. We'd only heard of them. Ruthless, dangerous, vile... Alluring.

My discovery was too late to save me. The moment the first drop of ichor met my tongue, it burned itself on my mind, my flesh and my soul. I had never been so thirsty before. I had never been quenched like that before.

I remember her smile when she caught me by the shoulders and pushed me away. She knew how I felt, and how badly I wanted it again. Gods always know everything, they say.

Venus, I called her. Let me worship you again.

She ran her fingers, nails a bright shade of gold, over my lips, over my protruding fangs dyed golden with her blood. With her other hand, she caressed my hair, my neck and finally placed it over my unbeating heart.

What are you, she asked me, though why she had to ask, I did not understand.

A monster, I wanted to tell her, but I knew that wasn't the answer she was looking for. Your devotee, I said.

She smiled, and raised her arm towards my lips and I feasted on my goddess till the sun came up.

Venus is a trap, I should've known. After that night, I should've stayed away. I know. We never hunt the same prey twice, but my Venus isn't my prey you see (maybe I am hers). Every night, I seek salvation in her embrace, and drink in the nectar nobody else in the universe knows the taste of. It feels holy. We feel holy. I feel holy.

It is my ambrosia. My euphoria.

And, for reasons I do not understand, I am hers.

Gods aren't supposed to cry, but my Venus does. On nights when we are too spent, she caresses my hair and talks of her world. Of her loneliness. Of her holiness. I do not understand much.

It's okay, my queen, she says when I tell her that.

She calls me her queen and feeds me the lifeline of the gods. My Venus says she loves me and feeds me poison in the same breath.

And I take it all in. Because I am her devotee and a monster.

We are doomed to a glorious death, a glorious spiral downwards. We know it. But she's a god and I'm a demon and we are in love, you see. I know her blood is going to burn me one day - I can already feel it incinerating my veins, bit by bit - but once you've tasted the blood of the gods, tell me, how are you supposed to turn back?

There's no turning back now.

I know I should be running
But all my roads lead only to her.

My Venus. My ecstasy. My doom.