(no subject)
Her hands quivered indignantly, as if the cold of the entire season had manifested itself into a single moment. She wasn't cold, of course. Neither was the room in which she sat.
His deep breaths could be heard from the floor across the room, and his lying body was perfectly adjacent to her position. She glanced at it, occasionally wishing for the courage to lie with him. She was sitting in her chair, poised in a way that suggested a preparation for some sort of action, but she had since forgotten what it was she was preparing to do. All had sunk into her subconscious, and had taken a back seat to the captivating inhales and exhales performed by the beautiful human before her.
Suddenly, a dripping noise had begun to interrupt her beloved display from inside the bathroom. The sink would need fixing, she thought to herself. The shaking of her body was growing more intense with every few moments. However, the intoxicating breaths of the man before her remained steady and constant. She placed her middle finger to her shivering lips and had begun to trace them carefully, as though she were applying lipstick. She felt beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as he.
The sun would be rising within the hour, she reminded herself (though she had continually convinced herself throughout the evening that it would never rise at all). Although she joyfully anticipated the full view of his body that the morning light would bring, a strange fear had begun to sting at her from someplace unknown. She had made it this far.
The dripping stopped, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Running her fingers delicately through her hair, she thought of the moment of her meeting this man. He had been a tall, mysterious stranger. A man who could seldom cross a street without attracting several wandering eyes. The type of person whom envy seemed to follow like cheap cologne. She basked in these final moments of twilight.
As the sun began to rise, his breaths seemed to slow. She feared that they would trail off indefinitely, but felt in her heart that they wouldn't. Her heart began to pound inside her chest, and she could feel the blood pulsing through her temples. Her shaking had become so violent that her teeth were clattering loudly, echoing throughout the home. The first traces of light sliced into the darkness through the blinds, pouring onto the floor before her feet. The sun continued to climb, and the beams of light inched toward his lying body.
And finally, he was basked in the sun's newborn rays falling across his body like bars. His hands were tied behind his back, his feet bound at the ankle, and the knife, which had inflicted myriad stab wounds upon his torso, was lying just before his face. The blood strewn across the floor had begun to coagulate. Miraculously, he had made it through the night. They both had.
She covered her face with her hands, and began to sob.
His deep breaths could be heard from the floor across the room, and his lying body was perfectly adjacent to her position. She glanced at it, occasionally wishing for the courage to lie with him. She was sitting in her chair, poised in a way that suggested a preparation for some sort of action, but she had since forgotten what it was she was preparing to do. All had sunk into her subconscious, and had taken a back seat to the captivating inhales and exhales performed by the beautiful human before her.
Suddenly, a dripping noise had begun to interrupt her beloved display from inside the bathroom. The sink would need fixing, she thought to herself. The shaking of her body was growing more intense with every few moments. However, the intoxicating breaths of the man before her remained steady and constant. She placed her middle finger to her shivering lips and had begun to trace them carefully, as though she were applying lipstick. She felt beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as he.
The sun would be rising within the hour, she reminded herself (though she had continually convinced herself throughout the evening that it would never rise at all). Although she joyfully anticipated the full view of his body that the morning light would bring, a strange fear had begun to sting at her from someplace unknown. She had made it this far.
The dripping stopped, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Running her fingers delicately through her hair, she thought of the moment of her meeting this man. He had been a tall, mysterious stranger. A man who could seldom cross a street without attracting several wandering eyes. The type of person whom envy seemed to follow like cheap cologne. She basked in these final moments of twilight.
As the sun began to rise, his breaths seemed to slow. She feared that they would trail off indefinitely, but felt in her heart that they wouldn't. Her heart began to pound inside her chest, and she could feel the blood pulsing through her temples. Her shaking had become so violent that her teeth were clattering loudly, echoing throughout the home. The first traces of light sliced into the darkness through the blinds, pouring onto the floor before her feet. The sun continued to climb, and the beams of light inched toward his lying body.
And finally, he was basked in the sun's newborn rays falling across his body like bars. His hands were tied behind his back, his feet bound at the ankle, and the knife, which had inflicted myriad stab wounds upon his torso, was lying just before his face. The blood strewn across the floor had begun to coagulate. Miraculously, he had made it through the night. They both had.
She covered her face with her hands, and began to sob.