Post by behindTHEmask on Nov 18, 2004 17:37:37 GMT -8
((I cannot think of a title, so if you could be so kind as to help, it would be appreciated. I don't think the one it has, fits very well.))
The sheets became tangled around her delicate legs as she tried crawling away to hide from a mistake. Her heart stroke her chest as she moved with the silent, dark shadows creeping up the wall. Sweat fell off her glistening forehead as she recollected her memories. Blurred together, nothing could be pieced back together in a form she understood. But she had no time to worry about the past now. All she had to do was worry about her present.
His clammy hand pulled back on her frail wrist. “Breathe with me.” His wet voice made her freeze as she fell back into him. His hot chest pressed against her back. The skin of his cheek touched her tousled hair as he ran temptation over her shaking body. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”
Biting her bottom lip, she held in her breaths. It wasn’t necessary to breath intently when all he wanted was what he held in his hands. Those clammy hands, she hated them. Her passion for them was minimal. The only time she ever wanted them to grace her skin, was when she was staggering out in the dark mornings, looking for some way to get laid. She’d fall upon his doorstep, and he’d take her in with open arms and a devious grin. It didn’t matter to him how he got it. All that mattered was that for hours, she was his.
“Another round of this game?” He questioned running the palm of his hand over her chest. “I have a new position to try.”<br>
A puff of air escaped her lips. No, she didn’t want to play again. She wanted to go home. Her head ached from chugging down a bottle of vodka to dull the pain inflicted upon her heart from her life. She wanted him to let go, giving her an option.
Quickly, he turned her to face him. His cold, dull gray eyes fixed on her fear. “Does someone have cold feet? This game isn’t just played when you want it, Sweetheart. I have needs too.” He pulled her closer to his skin. “Love me.”<br>
Violently she jerked away. As hard as she could, she shoved him back off the bed, and onto the floor. Wrapping the sheet around her exposed body, she stared at him. He laughed. He laughed at her damn courage.
“Don’t do that. Don’t resist something you can’t.”<br>
She shook her head, holding back tears like a cork in a wine bottle. “No,” she whispered softly. “No, you don’t do that.” Her voice grew to an audible tone. The grip that held up the sheet tightened as her courage grew.
“Excuse me?”<br>
“Don’t take advantage of me.” Her heart pounded in her ears that strained to hear his voice.
“I didn’t take advantage of you. If anyone was taken advantage of, it was me. You came here to get laid, I just opened the door.”<br>
“You could have kept it shut.” She insisted. “Or at least kept your clothes on.”<br>
“But that isn't what you wanted,” he told her, running his eyes over the maroon sheet. It draped onto the floor, distinguishing she was only a mere 5’4”. “You wanted me to ‘pleasure’ you.”<br>
“What I wanted was for someone to tell me everything is all right.”<br>
“Everything’s all right.”
“It’s too late.” The cork flew off, and her knees buckled from underneath her. The sheet slipped from her grasp as she hit the floor. Tiny spots of a darker shade expanded on the cotton fabric.
His body crawled around the bed, sitting beside her. His stare ran over each line in her face. Each emotion it was made from. “You’re beautiful.”<br>
“Get away from me.”<br>
“I’m serious. You’re beautiful.”<br>
“Knock it off, Dylan.”<br>
“Can’t you take a compliment? I was just saying—“
“I know what you were saying, but don’t.” The annoyance in her voice was embellished by a glare. “I’ve got to go.” Picking up the sheet, she sauntered to her clothes in a pile beside the bed. Sitting, she bent over, grabbing her underwear.
“You don’t have to go. You’re just running away, again. Like you always do.”<br>
“I’m late.” She stated, slipping the garment over her legs. Grabbing her pants, she quickly shoved them on.
“Late for what?”<br>
“My date with destiny.” Pulling the shirt down over her breast, she exhaled slowly. With one blink, she let her feet take her out of the bedroom. She knew he was following her.
“And what does destiny have that I don’t?” He questioned, leaning his bare body against the stucco wall.
“My life.” The door shut behind her as the suns rays touched her skin. “Just another day, on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams.”<br>
The sheets became tangled around her delicate legs as she tried crawling away to hide from a mistake. Her heart stroke her chest as she moved with the silent, dark shadows creeping up the wall. Sweat fell off her glistening forehead as she recollected her memories. Blurred together, nothing could be pieced back together in a form she understood. But she had no time to worry about the past now. All she had to do was worry about her present.
His clammy hand pulled back on her frail wrist. “Breathe with me.” His wet voice made her freeze as she fell back into him. His hot chest pressed against her back. The skin of his cheek touched her tousled hair as he ran temptation over her shaking body. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”
Biting her bottom lip, she held in her breaths. It wasn’t necessary to breath intently when all he wanted was what he held in his hands. Those clammy hands, she hated them. Her passion for them was minimal. The only time she ever wanted them to grace her skin, was when she was staggering out in the dark mornings, looking for some way to get laid. She’d fall upon his doorstep, and he’d take her in with open arms and a devious grin. It didn’t matter to him how he got it. All that mattered was that for hours, she was his.
“Another round of this game?” He questioned running the palm of his hand over her chest. “I have a new position to try.”<br>
A puff of air escaped her lips. No, she didn’t want to play again. She wanted to go home. Her head ached from chugging down a bottle of vodka to dull the pain inflicted upon her heart from her life. She wanted him to let go, giving her an option.
Quickly, he turned her to face him. His cold, dull gray eyes fixed on her fear. “Does someone have cold feet? This game isn’t just played when you want it, Sweetheart. I have needs too.” He pulled her closer to his skin. “Love me.”<br>
Violently she jerked away. As hard as she could, she shoved him back off the bed, and onto the floor. Wrapping the sheet around her exposed body, she stared at him. He laughed. He laughed at her damn courage.
“Don’t do that. Don’t resist something you can’t.”<br>
She shook her head, holding back tears like a cork in a wine bottle. “No,” she whispered softly. “No, you don’t do that.” Her voice grew to an audible tone. The grip that held up the sheet tightened as her courage grew.
“Excuse me?”<br>
“Don’t take advantage of me.” Her heart pounded in her ears that strained to hear his voice.
“I didn’t take advantage of you. If anyone was taken advantage of, it was me. You came here to get laid, I just opened the door.”<br>
“You could have kept it shut.” She insisted. “Or at least kept your clothes on.”<br>
“But that isn't what you wanted,” he told her, running his eyes over the maroon sheet. It draped onto the floor, distinguishing she was only a mere 5’4”. “You wanted me to ‘pleasure’ you.”<br>
“What I wanted was for someone to tell me everything is all right.”<br>
“Everything’s all right.”
“It’s too late.” The cork flew off, and her knees buckled from underneath her. The sheet slipped from her grasp as she hit the floor. Tiny spots of a darker shade expanded on the cotton fabric.
His body crawled around the bed, sitting beside her. His stare ran over each line in her face. Each emotion it was made from. “You’re beautiful.”<br>
“Get away from me.”<br>
“I’m serious. You’re beautiful.”<br>
“Knock it off, Dylan.”<br>
“Can’t you take a compliment? I was just saying—“
“I know what you were saying, but don’t.” The annoyance in her voice was embellished by a glare. “I’ve got to go.” Picking up the sheet, she sauntered to her clothes in a pile beside the bed. Sitting, she bent over, grabbing her underwear.
“You don’t have to go. You’re just running away, again. Like you always do.”<br>
“I’m late.” She stated, slipping the garment over her legs. Grabbing her pants, she quickly shoved them on.
“Late for what?”<br>
“My date with destiny.” Pulling the shirt down over her breast, she exhaled slowly. With one blink, she let her feet take her out of the bedroom. She knew he was following her.
“And what does destiny have that I don’t?” He questioned, leaning his bare body against the stucco wall.
“My life.” The door shut behind her as the suns rays touched her skin. “Just another day, on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams.”<br>
