Inihibition.Mature

Something.

It's a warm, sweet scented, pleasant Saturday evening. Dusk has overstayed it's welcome, and the moon is drooping solemnly in the faded cobalt sky, much like the guilt that shadows her as she takes one more slow step, towards the covert death trap that was his front door. Her heels smashing the pavement harder with every anticipated step.

This was all becoming real.

In the still of the night she strode, swiftly, keeping an eye on her tail, because she knew not another soul could see her. Anyone could be watching; past occurrences taking place way too close for comfort could account for that. Silencing suspicion was the last task she could endure right now, as it would be pointless and much too difficult at this stage.

Almost there now. She passed the guardian, perched outside  like a metallic panther, eyes dim, yet reflective, like a cat ready to pounce. Although it was completely inanimate, there was something intimidating about that shiny black beast.

 It wasn't going to phase her though.

The last step. She threw her fist into the cold dark glass thrice, and awaited response. He wouldn't come straight away, she knew that'd be way too easy.

He has however, no desire to keep her waiting.

 

A rustle, a creak, and the door swings backwards. He towers over her, though not as much as she'd expect. Shades retire to her head and the two pairs of sapphires collide, both knowing each other's emotion and intuition. Without hesitation, she steps inside.

 

He knows what she wants, and he has every intention of giving, if only it were that easy. They both know words are what they're best at, however, there doesn't seem to be the right combination of them to describe their situation right now. He can only assume.

 

Cautiously, he steps towards her, and gazes down into her lusting eyes, her cold, yet longing eyes. She was always glowing with malevolence, but something she felt only for him was becoming apparent now. Without hesitation, she thrust herself upon him as if this was right, and their lips collided for the first and what should have been the only time. A shiver ran down his spine as he contemplated such actions, but this wasn't a time to argue with his inhibition. His fingertips brush her fragile skin as this embrace continues.

 

He knew exactly where he wanted her.

And she knew men like him have such an easy soul to steal.

 

Wine, the beverage to compliment a lustrous affair. He reached over to his steel cabinet and used a warm hand to slide the glass plate open. From inside he drew a full ruby coloured bottle, and carried it to the kitchen. She cautiously perched on the black leather sofa and gazed up, her eyes meeting the huge wedding portrait that hung on the wall.

Even from a two dimensional black and white perspective, she was watching, glaring. The canvas that so blatantly said,

“You're dead.”

He made his way back to the living room and sat beside her, handing over a wide crafted glass half containing the scarlet liquid. She took a sip. It was warm and tasted sensually fruity, with a harsh bitter after taste, ironically like their friendship.

Another glance, this time from him.

“Does it hurt to know you belong here?”

 

She stared at the floor for a few seconds, then lifted her head and met his burning gaze.

“I don't. You just want me to belong.”

He smiled and nodded, and took a sip of his own wine.

“Well that's self explanatory, you're not here of my accord are you now?”

 

He was trying to manipulate her again. What a bad move. She'd grown accustomed to his tactics.

 

“No, I'm not. You're not married of my accord though, are you?”

 

She smirked and looked away for a moment, then emptied her glass and set on the end table that resided at her side of the couch. His oceanic eyes fell, crestfallen, a sight that would have made her recoil that last statement once upon a time, but now, she could just glance away with ease. It was all just mind games. Like drawing a smile with the blood you’ve just drawn from yourself.

 

“You can't pull that one anymore.” She sighed, and stood up, silver chains jangling as she rose. He reached out for her hand but she snatched it away and strode away, towards his front door once again.

“Please stay. It's not often we get to share these times.” He pleaded helplessly, like a child would beg to stay in an area they were reluctant to leave. How he had the audacity to say such things at a time like this was beyond her.

“Just ten more minutes.”

She glanced at the clock behind him. 10.35pm. An excuse to leave if anything.

“It's late.”

“I'll give you a ride.”

Her eyes narrowed, she was becoming irritated, as if he needed her. Which she knew wasn't the case.

“I don't think so.”

 

As if her presence wasn't conspicuous enough without him offering gracious lifts. He followed her to the door, and reached out to embrace her, as she swung herself out of reach and onto the porch. He sighed solemnly and put one arm on the door frame, an unsatisfied grin began to unfold. She spun round once more, and took a look at his face, those eyes she still loved dearly, but felt no compassion for when he was being so needy. She stepped outside his gate and gazed one last time in his direction.

“I could write it better then you ever felt it.”

And with that, she was gone. Absorbed by the darkness.

He sighed.

“Kanske.”

And slowly closed the door behind her.

The End

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