Yellow Nails and Burning Passion

She smoked. He'd always liked that about her. The cigarette in her hand matched her earrings; carcinogens looked all too good on her. The smoke billowing from between her berry red lips complemented her outfit, and she was well aware. But better than it could make her long, golden nails pop, it matched her personality. She was burning, and he liked the way she destroyed herself. The way she turned herself to rubble day after day- only to repair herself with fragments of those around her. He loved to see himself in her. He loved the woman she was, until one morning he woke up to his own self.