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carmillaSeduction Scene
The lighter is resting in my hand, smooth, oddly cool.
It reminds me of another time, long ago, another young man with fire in his eyes. Not the same fire, perhaps. Knowing instantly that we shared a world; or more than one.
Not knowing until many years later that that we lived in separate worlds after all.
I remember the click, as if to offer me a light, though we both knew neither of us smoked.
I smile as I throw the thing back. This one will be mine.
If I cannot have him, I will take what is his.
Heat
It was cold.
That's what she remembers. Not the whispers of his thoughts in her head, not her mother's hysterical face, not her own slow panic when she realised he wasn't moving anymore.
She just remembers how the warmth fled out of his mouth, leaving her cold.
Now, the eyes on her are warm. When she catches his eye, the warm tingles along her arms and down the back of her neck, pools in the pit of her stomach.
The mouth is still cold. His breath, mingling with hers, becoming hers, is icy.
She doesn't mind so much anymore.
Glaube
Patterns. That's all it is. Thinking in patterns.
The marks bead over his body, the words roll off his tongue like rosaries.
Kyrie eleison. Libera eas de ore leonis. Agnus dei, qui tolis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
The lion and the lamb. Justice and mercy. Fear the one, pray for the other. It's all part of the same pattern.
When you have nothing else, you still have this, at the back of your mind. Your own personal catechism. God loves you....
The words don't matter. It's the pattern that's important.
He's broken the pattern. He's broken. Lord, have mercy.
Back to Work
I wish I could see his eyes sometimes. Bet they'd be furious now. Fucking blazing at me, only that's a little too close to reality for comfort.
Is he gonna take it? Didn't think so. My hand's already raised when he throws the keys back. Just following the script.
Betcha he missed me.
Jean next. Another easy scene to play.
I know she missed me.
I just have to chip at those defences. I know, they know I know, how to push their buttons.
I'll have 'em, one or the other, sooner or later.
It's good to be back.
The lighter is resting in my hand, smooth, oddly cool.
It reminds me of another time, long ago, another young man with fire in his eyes. Not the same fire, perhaps. Knowing instantly that we shared a world; or more than one.
Not knowing until many years later that that we lived in separate worlds after all.
I remember the click, as if to offer me a light, though we both knew neither of us smoked.
I smile as I throw the thing back. This one will be mine.
If I cannot have him, I will take what is his.
Heat
It was cold.
That's what she remembers. Not the whispers of his thoughts in her head, not her mother's hysterical face, not her own slow panic when she realised he wasn't moving anymore.
She just remembers how the warmth fled out of his mouth, leaving her cold.
Now, the eyes on her are warm. When she catches his eye, the warm tingles along her arms and down the back of her neck, pools in the pit of her stomach.
The mouth is still cold. His breath, mingling with hers, becoming hers, is icy.
She doesn't mind so much anymore.
Glaube
Patterns. That's all it is. Thinking in patterns.
The marks bead over his body, the words roll off his tongue like rosaries.
Kyrie eleison. Libera eas de ore leonis. Agnus dei, qui tolis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
The lion and the lamb. Justice and mercy. Fear the one, pray for the other. It's all part of the same pattern.
When you have nothing else, you still have this, at the back of your mind. Your own personal catechism. God loves you....
The words don't matter. It's the pattern that's important.
He's broken the pattern. He's broken. Lord, have mercy.
Back to Work
I wish I could see his eyes sometimes. Bet they'd be furious now. Fucking blazing at me, only that's a little too close to reality for comfort.
Is he gonna take it? Didn't think so. My hand's already raised when he throws the keys back. Just following the script.
Betcha he missed me.
Jean next. Another easy scene to play.
I know she missed me.
I just have to chip at those defences. I know, they know I know, how to push their buttons.
I'll have 'em, one or the other, sooner or later.
It's good to be back.