04-13-2009, 11:50 AM
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The smell of poison was in the air. It was sickly-sweet and sour, and reminded her of the thousand times before. She felt sick, but not because of the wine in her belly. Vaguely, she recalled the other men, but their faces swam in the bottle and she swallowed them down, emptying the green-glass as she opened her throat and shut her mind. As long as there was safety in the bottle, and as long as she remembered how to get out again, none of this mattered. Everything was meaningless; a nihilist had told her that once, right before he walked off into the tundra.
Aurèle turned her head towards the man, and though she knew he was scarred, and ruined, his face was still well defined and his claim of power was intriguing. The pale woman dropped the bottle beside her and positioned her torso over his. All of her hair, loose and thick, fell around her frame like a gold-flecked drapery. She smiled, and was unable to keep her body still; it rocked slightly, as if unable to find her center of gravity. “IIIIIIII,” she began, drawing out the letter. “, aaaam going to—“ Here she intended perhaps to say something witty, to offer to find him something to hide his ruined eye or cover the horrid scars. Instead; “—make you fly,” she giggled like a girl, and dropped her face to his, looking for his mouth.
The smell of poison was in the air. It was sickly-sweet and sour, and reminded her of the thousand times before. She felt sick, but not because of the wine in her belly. Vaguely, she recalled the other men, but their faces swam in the bottle and she swallowed them down, emptying the green-glass as she opened her throat and shut her mind. As long as there was safety in the bottle, and as long as she remembered how to get out again, none of this mattered. Everything was meaningless; a nihilist had told her that once, right before he walked off into the tundra.
Aurèle turned her head towards the man, and though she knew he was scarred, and ruined, his face was still well defined and his claim of power was intriguing. The pale woman dropped the bottle beside her and positioned her torso over his. All of her hair, loose and thick, fell around her frame like a gold-flecked drapery. She smiled, and was unable to keep her body still; it rocked slightly, as if unable to find her center of gravity. “IIIIIIII,” she began, drawing out the letter. “, aaaam going to—“ Here she intended perhaps to say something witty, to offer to find him something to hide his ruined eye or cover the horrid scars. Instead; “—make you fly,” she giggled like a girl, and dropped her face to his, looking for his mouth.