10Well, I've had this section done for a while, but I had been hoping to add more to post... Since that didn't happen, I suppose you shall have to endure this short section...
There's no perspective change... but to clarify, the first part I posted is the dream she's having (though it is about events that did occur)...
On with the show!
I woke with start, my eyes wide open and my chest heaving. Ignoring the arm underneath me and the man it belonged to, I sat up and covered my face with my hands.
Ugh. Drinking was totally not worth the hangover. Crawling out of the bed carefully, I scanned the room and quickly found my clothes and the clutch I'd been using as a purse. Unable to face the horror of my thigh-high stockings with the way I was feeling, I stepped into the dress and zipped it before sliding my bare feet into my heels and stuffing the stockings in my purse.
I dug through my purse and found I had not one pen on me. Sighing, I used my lipstick to scribble a note for the still-sleeping man. "I had a nice time. Call you later." You know, the standard one-night-fling note.
I was careful to close the door behind me quietly, not wanting to wake him and have to deal with the whole mess that would lead to. There was too much work waiting in my studio to deal with that, plus I needed to get over the hangover before one of my three afternoon classes. With a heavy sigh, I called a cab and returned to Ostrich, the bar I'd spent last night at, to pick up my car.
As classy as one could be with bed-head and last night's dress, I walked back into the bar.
Everett looked up at the sound of the bell. "Oh, hey, Lex. Rick said you'd probably be by for your keys." He tossed me the heavy keys and by some miracle, I caught them.
"Send Rick my love… and my hangover," I told him wryly.
He laughed out loud. "You got it, babe."
I gave him a nod and walked out of the bar and to my car, a silver little four-door with attitude that I named Gordon. Gordon and I had a pleasant drive home. He didn't even complain that it took me ten minutes to decided to crawl out, greet my roommate who was most likely awake because he always was when I came in at 7:30 am, and crawl in my own bed for an hour.
When I unlocked the door, I tried to prepare myself for the disapproving glare I was definitely going to receive. Royce hated it when I stayed out all night and he had no problem making it known to me. Slowly, I opened the door and walked in, wincing and waiting for the glare that Royce had perfected.
It wasn't coming. I couldn't figure out why until my eyes fell on the sofa. Smiling a smile even a hangover couldn't kill, I allowed myself to watch him slumber for a few moments. Age had only improved his beauty, like a fine wine. His dark curls were now well on their way clear down his back and he'd come into the breath-taking perfection of his face. He was a sleek, toned specimen of masculinity now, not the sweet child that I met when I was young.
I walked to him to the sofa, leaning into him and kissing his cheek. He reached out for me, even still asleep and I smiled again –at least until he caught me. His eyes fluttered open, bright but still sleepy, and he brought his lips to mine almost innocently. The way he kissed me, however, was definitely filed under 'not innocent', especially when he some-how managed to persuade my mouth to open to him.
I jerked back and glared at him.
"You taste like you've been kissing another man," he observed, his tone still lethargic and tired.
"I've not brought one home, so it's not any of your business, Royce." My tone indicated just how many arguments I would take on the subject: zero.
"Yes, Mistress," he replied, sarcasm dripping from his tone.
"Fuck it. I'm going to sleep for another hour. If anyone shows up to leave more work or commission something, could you please be cordial, sweetling?" I asked sweetly before retreating for my room, otherwise known as my sanctuary.
I flung myself onto my bed and punched my pillow twice. I hated that he wound me up so much! Every time I came home, he had to do something like that. I figured it was a male thing, marking what he perceived as his territory. There was one thing I hated more than his need to mark me as his: that his kiss would floor me more than any from the man I had been with the night before.
Royce was more than reasonably attractive. If I were to face facts, I'd have to admit he was a whole heck of a lot more beautiful than I was. It wasn't as though we were related. The bonus was that we knew each other well and we usually got along wonderfully. The bad news was that my love for him brought him to life, which pretty much sidesteps and runs ahead of confessing love for someone or allowing love to grow between people.
The worst part of it all came from the moments I took to over-analyze the hell out of it when I was sixteen years old. The kind of love that brought Royce to life was a nurturing, motherly love. If I had to pinpoint a time when he changed from the way he'd been when I was a child, it was when I was fifteen. He became moodier, more distant and yet more possessive. But that had been around the time that the way I loved him changed, as well. I could no longer see Royce as a friend or a brother –instead, my love was colored by a haze of hormones. So the interest he displayed in me –was it simply the mirror of my own interest, or his own? His predisposition was to please and love his mistress above all else. It hurt to think that I changed who he was simply by loving him.
I punched my pillow once more for good measure. I was in love with him. I just couldn't be sure that he didn't think he loved me because I loved him.
I laid down and tried hard not to dream of him. Not like it ever worked, but I did try.
Anyone amused by the name of the bar?
Now, since that's out of the way... Yep, she has the worst moral dilemma known to man about this whole situation.
I hope to expose a little of Royce's viewpoint later on so that you can understand some of what he's thinking, too.
I know some of you have been waiting for this section a while now... I hope it was worth the wait!
Ever at your pleasure,
~Sins~