Miscellaneous
midnight writing
(It was closer to one or two. But, I don't really remember. It was just incredibly late. And I was not really all there. There's worse I've done. Believe me.)
The sound of her feet slapping the marble tiling, and her labored breathing, no more than panting, were the only sounds echoing off of the stringent white walls of the hallway she fled down. There were no windows, no lights of any kind down this hallway. No doors, no attic hatches, no way in. No way out. Unless you were put there, of course. This was only one hallway of many. This one was hidden in a revolving panel of the one she was running down before. Her breath fogged in the frigid air, gooseflesh crept up her thighs, arms, and belly. She leaned against one of the walls to guide her, her eyes struggling to find purchase in the black void ahead of her, and failing miserably. "Why run? Why struggle? It's not going to end any sooner if you just expend yourself before he gets to you...," she berated herself, not daring to utter a word out loud. No matter where she was in this maze of hallways, he would find her. He always found her. Already she heard his lyrical voice, from out of nowhere, because here there is no where, singing to her. Some enchanted lullaby in a language that doesn't even sound human.
His voice, his face, his body, nothing about him seems human; the timbre in his voice too rich, the green of his eyes too deep, and too luminous. His skin too pale, and too flawless. In truth, he is quite beautiful, with the high cheekbones, chisled jawline, aristocratic nose, and the full, pale- peach lips that would qualify him for Calvin Kline commercials. His large, almond shaped green eyes are framed by thick lashes, and his eyebrows arch up into points before tapering off at his temples. His ears are small, but elongated, and pointed at the tops. Each silken earlobe sports an emerald post one centimeter in diamter, straight through. His smooth forehead is crowned by a widow's peak, and a full head of wine colored curls. His body is like liquid steel, sheathed in velvet. He is a startling creature to come upon.
Which was her first mistake. She should've just walked away when she bumped into him. Should've just apologized for the spilled drink, smiled a little, and walked off. But those eyes, and that smile, they just held her there.
She slammed her fist against the wall and screamed in anger. And terror. "GOD! Why are you doing this to me?! What...," she choked off a sob, and slid down the wall. "What did I do?"
"Oh, my sweet child...," his voice filtered out of the frigid air, and his hand appeared out of the shadows. His long, delicate, deceptively soft fingers traced her cheek, the outline of her lips, and brushed away her tears. "Oh dear. I'm quite afraid of what you're doing, Precious...," he cooed. His petal soft lips grazing her ear, he whispered, "Are you going to be nice to me, Celeste? Are you going to stop hurting me now?" And suddenly, a single tear ecked out of one of his amazing pools of emerald, that were glowing to this minute.
She gasped at the sight of that fat tear, sliding softly over the silk of his skin, staining him with the apparent pain he was feeling. "No...," she whispered, but not at him. Only at the sudden thought that she might be hurting him. Hurting him! This amazing, beautiful creature that did nothing but care for her! HOW could she do this?! "Oh, Gentle!" Her eyes filled with tears anew. "Oh, Gentle! Please forgive me!" She grasped the collar of his black starched Oxford, which he, she noticed, had left unbuttoned at the top, revealing some bauble or pendant hanging like a drop of night against his milky skin. She drew him to her slowly, then, blinking her eyes, she looked back up at him. "NO," she said, this time to him, "No. No!" She shoved him away from her, which only moved her. She crawled away from him. "No," she whispered, more to herself, to steel herself, than to ward him off.
"Celeste," now his voice was dripping with anguish, "Celeste, why are you doing this to me? You asked me here. You invited me! And now you push me away. I've done nothing to you, Precious." He hung his head, his curls falling around his eyes boyishly.
"Nothing? Nothing?! Every night for the past six days you have brought me to this place! I do not even know if it is real, or only in my head! I don't know where I am! I don't know who you are, or why you are here, or what the purpose of this maze is, and why you keep me running in terror, through hallway after hallway! Invited you?" She was incredulous, "I asked you to spend the night with me! It was all I could do. It was my party, and you were there, and I spilled wine all over your white shirt and tie, and we talked about God knows what, until there was no one else...but you," she checked her anger, and avoided looking at him, lest his spell catch her again.
"Yes, Precious...," he faltered, "you invited me to spend the night with you. That night, you invited me, and we talked. You invited me! Can you not see?" He took a small step to her, "Why do you hate me so? It wounds me as nothing ever has, Precious."
"Stay. Where. You. Are," she slid back a pace, her white cotton shift aiding in sliding along the smooth floor. "You aren't natural!"
"Celeste, isn't that what you wanted? Didn't you tell me you needed to get away from life? You needed something outside the norm to go to when it was all too much. You told me so yourself," he stopped and looked at the walls around them. "These are simply your creation. If you would just...allow me to...I'd give you that break from the norm, Celeste...why don't you let me? On the seventh night, if you don't accept, it's all gone, Celeste. I can't come back. Will you at least let me show you what it is you cringe from, when I come near you? Will you at least let me let you taste it once?" His eyes were beseeching, pleading with her to let him share his world with her.
Suddenly he was beside her, his hand sliding up the gooseflesh on her arm, his touch at once calming and sensual. Warmth emanated from his touch, but he gave off none. His other hand caressed her stomach through the shift, and the small bumps were gone, replaced with a tingling sensation like none she'd ever felt before. She looked up at him through her mass of coral hair, straight as the hallway she just ran down. Her brown eyes untrusting, but curious. Her full lips pursed, set against anything he might do. Just then, his lips were against her ear, warm and firm, but soft as velvet. "Please?" He whispered against the coral shell of her ear, his breath hot enough to make her own step up a pace. This, she wasn't ready for. Her hands balled into fists as conflicting thoughts warred in her head, and his heady presence wasn't making things any easier.
"Isn't he the one that brings you here, night after night, to run down these hallways, until he finds you, curled up and shrieking in terror, only to wake up in your bed right as he looks at you?" said one side of her mind, while the other simply said, "Yes, but he's right. He's done nothing to you really, but appeal to you in the most sincere manner. All he wants is to show you, just a taste. If you don't like it, on the seventh night, just sit down in one of the hallways, and wait. Just say no, he's not going to do anything to you, and you literally asked for it...and he's so beautiful..." The other quickly countered, "Yes, but beauty also has that frightening tendancy to be deadly. A double sided blade, no doubt. He'll bring up some other condition, like you have to sign up a friend for this same treatment every three weeks. Something will go wrong! You cannot trust him! He's not even human! No finger prints!" The willing side merely sighed with this in conclusion, "There is nothing to be hurt by trying something, only knowledge to be gained. Surely you are not willing to give up on this, merely because of the fact that he has no fingerprints?" She finally looked up into his eyes, and nodded. He smiled his beautiful smile, full of straight, pearly teeth.
He stood, bringing her up with him. He stood her at arms length in front of him, as if to examine her. He looked over her ripe figure, with its full breasts, plump, but still slim, waist, full hips, and shapely legs, ending in dainty feet. He dragged his eyes back up to her cherubic face. He drank in the sight of her cascade of surprisingly straight, softest-coral hair, that now framed her startled doe-like eyes, with their delicate fringe of almost white lashes, and her pouty mouth, palest pink. Her cheeks had a peach flush to them, and her lips were parted slightly, and her tongue delicately wet them. Her white shift barely concealed her womanly figure, and was enough to incite the lust of even the most stoic. It was sleeveless, and ended just above her knees, to reveal her calves in their milky splendor. He ripped his gaze back up to her eyes, again, and cleared his throat. After fourteen millenia, he thought he'd be used to things like this by now, but she was perfect in her imperfection, right down to her dusting of freckles across her button nose. "Yes," he sighed, "quite perfect."
As he was staring at her, taking all of her in, she too was getting drunk on the sight of him, which always brought to her mind something of nature, some deadly white jungle cat. Simply dressed in a black Oxford shirt, with his onyx necklace hanging perfectly in the hollow of his neck. His emerald earrings, posts, really, glinted in the little light he had brought with him into the darkness. The Oxford hung perfectly on his lithe frame, accentuating the lethal curvature of his muscles. His kakhi pants fit him perfectly also, not too short, not too long, definitely not too baggy or tight. She looked down, and saw that he was barefoot, his feet as well made as the rest of him, and quite beautiful, for feet. "But is that really so surprising?" A smile tugged at her mouth. He noticed it, and a light glinted in the depths of his emerald eyes. She would not have seen it, even had she been looking.
"Gentle?" She looked up slowly, letting her hair fall slowly to her shoulders, "I want to know..."
He sighed and smiled. He pulled her closer to him, sliding his hands up her sides, to the side of each breast, under her arms. He cupped her breasts gently, and then slid his hands around her, and traced her spine. She, in turn, coasted her hands along the firm planes of his back, and felt the muscles rolling with each movement he made. Each simple movement was doing little more than intoxicating her. His fingers at the base of her neck, under her hair, tracing their way up the sides of her neck to her ears, sending shivers down her spine when she felt the gentle caress on her earlobes. She brought her hands up under his shirt, and slid them along the cool skin of his back, along his sides, and down a ways into his pants. She felt the graceful dip of his back, that slid towards his firm, well muscled backside. She then brought her journey back up to his neck, and leaned her head in and darted her tongue into that hollow at its base, getting a taste of his unearthly, but quite earthy, scent. He sighed and laced his fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp while the silken weight of her hair fell across his fingers and much of his arms. He lifted her face to his, and saw her eyes burning with the crystalline clarity of a woman who knows what she wants. Her lips were parted expectantly, but were denied their prize. His own lips, though, found purchase, trailing their heat along her neck to the hollow that waited there, tasting her spicy-sweet skin in turn. Her nails dug into his back a little, as she purred at the pleasure his kisses left as his lips passed through territory, claiming all they touched as his. His tongue wove a different story, one of utter breathlessness, as it trailed back up to her ear. She panted slightly, as she'd never known such simple things could do so much to a body. One of his hands slid idly down to the small of her back, where he massaged the flesh slowly, in a circle, bringing their bodies closer. She gasped as his tongue lingered on her earlobe, and then he kissed his was back to her lips. He kissed the corners of her mouth. He gently sucked on her bottom lip, and kissed her upper lip. Both of his hands, now, were busy kneading and massaging her back and buttocks, leaving her more and more breathless with every turn. She slid her hands up to the nape of his neck, and looked up into his eyes. Then she slid her hands into those beautiful burgundy-black curls, and pulled his mouth to hers. They met in kalidescope of heat and light. They explored each other with a passion that didn't seem possible. He journeyed to the honeyed depths of her mouth, and she gave herself to him completely. He, in turn, possesed her. Their breathing became labored, and then settled into a rhythm. They began breathing each other, each living solely off of the other, a symbiotic relationship not possible anywhere else.
Their minds met on a higher plane, and mingled, azure and emerald colored light, twining around each other towards an amber sky. He showed her a whole new existence. Nothing but peace and beauty came where they went. It was better than fairy tales. The people, they weren't human people, they were more beings like Gentle, with names like Furie, Lagolan, and Elrend. Tall, slender beings that speak in the same unearthly tongue as Gentle, and sing the same haunting songs. They create things of such beauty and magnificence, it could make one cry to look upon. Miles of grassland, and forest, and endless possibilites for exploration. Ancient waterfalls, hills, mountains, caves, lakes, rivers, and valleys, all untouched, all living in harmony with this people, in this place where time does not matter. A place to get away, to become whole, and pure, again. A place to appreciate, and learn appreciation. All of this she saw in a minute, truly a taste of paradise, of magic creatures, of different peoples, and their histories untold.
Then, as suddenly and as wonderously as this vision came, she was ripped away from it, and brought back to reality, to her reality. She stood alone in her room, dazed for a minute. She shook her head, and looked around. "Gentle? Gentle?!" She cried, trying to control her disorientation and a strange sense of loss, "Gentle!!"
"Shh, Precious...I'm sorry," came his voice inside her head.
"What happened?! Did something go wrong? Did they not like me? Please, Gentle, don't leave me with silence!" She beseeched into the quiet of her room.
"Oh, no, Precious mine. I told you, only a taste of what you were running from. I could give you no more, not without your consent. Your distrust of me...ah now that hurt. Do you know what that feels like, Celeste? You are a mortal, and yet you act like one of the Godesses. Mayhap I'm weak, and I've fallen a little for you. But, dearest heart, I don't think I could tolerate more of that distrust. Was what I gave you all that horrible?" He sounded hurt, and not a little reproachful.
"Oh, Gentle! I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I honestly had no idea! That maze, those walls, it was too much! It was more than the vision of that land...much more than that to sway me...," she faltered and did not finish.
"What was it then, Precious? I'm not quite sure I understand. I thought you were the only human above feeling, above sensation? Were you not untouchable by man?" He asked, sarcastically quizzative.
"Yes," she answered hesitantly, "but you are no mere man. And you did touch me, and I did feel it." With that, she lay on her bed, and stretched to her full height, displaying her beautiful figure, for unseen eyes. His soft laugh of pure delight stayed with her until the next night, when he finally took her away, when she showed him how terribly sorry she was for her distrust and arrogance. Then she showed him exactly how appreciative she was that he was no mere man, and that he could touch her. And that she loved feeling it. All of it.