11th September 2003
Musky, pounding, throbbing, as was standard in a club on a Saturday night in the middle of London.
A list of drinks with the prices helpfully excluded but that didn't matter as Elsa passed her two big notes to the bouncer, barely giving the cloak room a glance for her jacket. That didn't matter.
It was the people she was there for anyway.
All lined up prettily for her inspection, all ready to be taken advantage of, or to take what they wanted from her. Her heart gave a little stutter of relief.
Although what she saw as quiet assessment from the men, while silent, the girls' judgements were worse. Cruel. They knew who she was from the moment she walked in. What type she was. They knew that they had completely different goals in mind.
Elsa didn't want it. She didn't want this noiseless condemnation in the bustling crowd. Her lips were begging to sound out that it wasn't all the time. No, not all the time. Just…just for the moments at home when it became…
Her nose wrinkled as her senses were bombarded with a haze of cigarette smoke.
But this place was the best. Even if she didn't smoke herself, it was what he liked to do when they came to the smoking area.
Well, not specifically this club, Elsa smirked.
No, she remembered-
Her throat cleared desperately as the lump came to the surface, her eyes stinging from both the grey, toxic cloud and for other…extenuating circumstances. No, this wasn't what tonight was about after all, her tongue came to taste the dry, cracking lips, lipstick already been stripped off by nervous teeth on the way over.
Tonight was about them, about them.
Her eyes, perfectly shaded began to peruse the stock, many an unfamiliar face a relief to her. Elsa wanted this after all; she needed this.
Unfortunately, as she came late it was obvious that many had packed together, either the desperate hanging off every woman's word or the masked women clutching at bulging biceps.
Her eyes caught onto the loners quickly, her feet turning towards them, evaluating their roles in tonight's itinerary.
Ah, that one- Elsa's brows lowered in disappointment, but no, another woman got there first. Probably better that way; he didn't look like the type that would know what to do for the morning after.
But another caught her eye soon enough. Caramel skin under florescent lights, brown hair dreded and pulled into a stylish pony tail. Tall, skinny, he would do well enough. He seemed like he would be fun, oh how she would pretend that she needed a smoke and he would offer a light but before they knew it-
Her tongue was shoved down her throat as he attacked, his hands wandering possessively.
"Oh, Elsa, I need you right now dammit." His hands grabbed her bottom roughly, "dammit right now!"
The silvery white (NO) the brown hair, was greasy under her fingers, her nails just feeling the grime but the heat, the closeness, the, the…
Elsa sighed with relief as they quickly made their way to the obviously out of order toilets, their mouths sealed.
"God, I love it when you get like this," his voice almost a prayer as he continued to back her into the wall of the stall, barely paying attention to whether he shut the door or not, his pale, pale skin looking (NO!) his tanned skin just glistening from the sweat of the club.
Glancing and catching her eye as his hands moved down her white blouse, his blue, iridescent (NO! NO! NO!) brown eyes just warming as his cold-
Continuing to walk passed, Elsa realised it wouldn't work out; she didn't like doing it in a public toilet. Only once had she done it and only with him.
Swallowing down her nausea, her eyes were pressed to the ground, her spirit just dampening as it dawned on her that what she needed right then was to head on home. The bouncer probably didn't recognise her as she squeezed passed again, but that was okay; she was anonymous.
Unconsciously her eyes did wander to the people loitering along the piss lined walls and gum strewn street, barely holding onto wrappers of chocolate and crisps.
There. There was a man, one that she could imagine:
Walking up with a strut, her hips swinging like many a time before.
"Hi, would you mind giving me a light?" her lips were perfectly covered with red paint, her red mask, her fingers bejewelled, already bringing the cigarette up to her mouth, not waiting for the given reply.
His easy going smirk, quirking in (NO), just a smile that barely exposed any teeth as he leaned in closer, light at the read-
But no, she couldn't take the place of the girlfriend.
Her heart gave a slight bump of understanding as her brain still wished her feet to walk over there, a swagger in her step like any other time of the week. But this time instinct was stronger as her feet kept pointing forwards despite her head turning on itself to continue to watch the spectacle.
Huffing, Elsa tried not to kick too much litter finding that would just bring more bad karma on herself. She snorted. That is, if she actually believed in religion any more.
Where was the fucking justice.
A slight breeze trailed across her spine like a ghostly hand. Shivering, her hands dug into her pockets. Good thing she hadn't stayed longer. She could not imagine walking home later as she was right then, sober.
And she was going to be sober, Elsa vowed, she needed to be at least one evening of the week. Something about health issues, maybe even her liver. But then again, maybe it didn't matter anymore.
She didn't matter anymore.
Elsa's hand reflexively ruffled her hair tiredly, even as she strolled past many a specimen, why couldn't she choose one? She didn't have to be drunk just to claim a companion for the night so what was stopping her?
Just pick one.
But as easy as it was, just a snowy face came on, mischievous grin, bony hands that dwarfed her own-
Her oxygen came in sharply, cutting deep in her chest like shards of glass slicing into her fleshy lungs. God what she wouldn't give for someone new.
Her boots clattered down the steps to the Underground, her mind on autopilot, her eyes still flittering without any life left to give a convincing case. A rush of stale air as the train snaked past Elsa in a rush to be in the next destination before screeching to a halt.
The soft slide of the doors were a relief as it meant that she was more than half way home after all. Back to her sanctuary and her tomb.
Her boots made a thud as it hit the plastic surface but her back accepted the germ infested seat that was close to a black guy listening to his iPod, a slight sounds of heavy bass coming through on the quiet train, while it still waited the standard few seconds for other passengers to board.
As if there would be more at this time.
Slouching, Elsa couldn't help but feel the exhaustion of staying up past two every night for her…adventures.
Before Elsa knew it-
His hands were yanking on her hair, her ribs ached from stretching in the uncomfortable position of trying to devour his lips. Her hands were holding onto his jacket tightly, every motion of their lips was her praying for him to come back safely, for him not to leave her.
Pants loud in her ear and she was just that little bit drunk enough not to care that they were making out like teenagers in public. Literally her thoughts were so jumbled with his kiss that she couldn't find it within herself to tear her hands away from his snow skin, from his dyed hair, from anything.
Just let him come back, his tongue swept through her mouth, his groan vibrating through where they connected which was in as many points as possible.
Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave, please, please, please, don't leave-
Elsa gasped, her eyes widening as she came back from her drowsiness, taking in her surroundings and documenting which station they were coming in with bleary lights.
Oh, good, she was almost home.
Sparing one last look for the man who was sat beside her in their seat, Elsa walked out, her body now complaining in lethargy because a loss of a certain person in which she would use as a pillow, as her own jacket when these shivers would get too much.
Her legs already fatigued despite the lack of movement as she climbed the stairs into an under pass way, the shorter route to their apartment.
Giggles distracted her for a moment as she spotted a couple of girls dressed for a house party, drinking a bottle of whiskey, handing it back and forth.
God, she hadn't talked to Anna in a while. She was probably doing well with that new baby on the way, not that Elsa got to meet her, especially after her last time. She couldn't be trusted any longer apparently and family only goes so far before it becomes the one last time that they can't deal with it.
Her eyes stung again, but this time there was no cigarette smoke to blame on.
Maybe she would try and call Anna in the morning.
Elsa gave a slight chuckle, her hand going up to her eyes to rub them, to rid the itch before she realised that she still had her make up on and had to wait until she made her way home, not a stranger's for once.
She didn't exactly deserve the place that she could barely afford to keep, especially in her condition.
Shoving her hands further into her pockets, her hand closed around her set of keys, the memory so fresh when he asked her to move in with him.
But now the flesh between her lungs was just a mockery of what it once was. Love in abundance was a pleasurable thing, her feet slapped against the concrete steps to reach her seventh floor.
Love however, wrenched away caused black circles, hollow cheeks and finding yourself constantly cold in a bed that was obviously made for two.
Her nose began to run as her hands brokenly brought up the falsely cheerful jingle of keys to let herself back into their flat, or more accurately her own flat now.
Her breathing ragged, her eyes were unconsciously taken towards the couch where a surprising number of unclean things occurred.
No, not that she wanted to remember. Yet still as her bottom perched on the spongy sofa that they both bought together with their shared pay checks, her mind was taken back to the last time.
"Jesus Elsa," Jack still let himself be propelled back onto the sofa, their teeth clacking uncomfortably as a little bit of the drinks that they had ruined their stability.
Her breaths were running out at every possibility and keeping her mouth sealed, fused to his own didn't help.
His big, bony hands were already spanning her waist, already wrenching at her top that had one or more beer spills on it from where Jack had cheekily tried to get out of hanging with their friends on the last night that he was in the country.
Barely hitching the tight white top so it sat above her breasts, the ever impatient Jack just unclipped her bra so his mouth which was already seeking all her skin, pursed and sucked in a welcome nipple.
Gasping, Elsa threw her head back as all the heat that she through was sucked away in the September chill was coming back in an avalanche of snapping synapses.
Her hips grinded down instinctively, causing Jack to pull away in a breathless groan, his eyes tight shut in pleasure.
Ducking back down, Elsa took the advantage to seal their lips again, knowing it was going to be the last of many before he came back from America.
He still had the bitter taste of the larger that he had before they made their way back which didn't mix well with the Sex On The Beach that still lingered on her tongue before Jack's taste overwhelmed it.
His hands pressed on her lower back and on her neck as their body fell from the couch with a flump, with the hands never stopping their documentation of every little thing.
He was going to tour America after all for at least a month. God she was going to miss him.
Jack's hand, skilled as it was, found it difficult to worm into her tight jeans as they were both dry humping simultaneously (and unsuccessfully) trying to take as many clothes off as possible on their worn rug.
"I love you, I love you, I love you," her mouth otherwise occupied, still tried to mouth the important words and from the sudden flip of positions where Jack's lips and tongue were laving and devouring her neck, Elsa felt that she got her message across.
"Jesus, I need to call into wherever the fuck you got these jeans and complain about accessibility," Jack's frown was adorable as he arched away, straddling her as his rough hands pressed on her bottom trying to lift her to yank down the painted on jeans. "This should be illegal."
Elsa grinned sitting up, her mouth already pressing onto his.
"When you get back I'm sure that we could get a hearing for it against Topshop jeans," her mouth kissed his again, "I can see the headlines now."
"Sexually frustrated man cock blocked by Topshop," his hands combed her messy hair back from her face as he bent down, "mmm, I feel the compensation money coming in my pocket."
"You sure it's not something else?"
Giggling, Elsa let him kiss her before her hands were getting busy in his loose underwear.
Groans were a constant background noise along with the feeling of carpet burn, would be a pleasant reminder for the first week that he was gone. Only would be left with three weeks after that.
Tears welled and Elsa gripped her head to stop the throbbing that always came with crying, her sock clad feet were pressed to the carpet where the rug was removed into the other room with the rest of his stuff.
Pressing a finger under her eye she found an inky tear, a tell-tale sign that her make up was running.
Pushing herself to her feet, Elsa headed to the tiny bathroom that he always complained about with its cramped shower that didn't leave much room for sharing and a rusty toilet prone to breaking.
Her hands picked at the seal for the make up wipe, the scent of aloe vera bitter against her nose as the rough, wet wipe brushed across her sensitive eyes. Her hands were limp as they barely forced any pressure to remove the mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow.
Her eyes were blurry as she stared at the mirror, staring at the half hearted attempt to remove her make up.
Throwing the wipe in the sink, Elsa turned away, refusing to stare at who she had become without him there, what she had become without him.
Heading for the fire escape, her t-shirt barely keeping her warm as her hole filled socks didn't protect her against the wet, chilled metal as she climbed the stairs towards the concrete blocks arranged around on the building.
There were still the fairy lights from two years ago. Most of the lights were broken but there were a couple that still shone against the black drop of her mood.
Crouching down by the nearest block, she was protected against the worst of the wind as her thin arms cradled her knees, her eyes blankly staring at the ground where they finished their final night together.
Hot water fell as she could still remember his touch, still remember his impatience, his embrace, kiss, nose, eyes, grin, hair.
Shuddering, her face buried in her knees. God, she just wanted to forget, she just wanted to remember. Anything to levy this constant stitch in her chest.
Sobbing, her hands grasped onto her wrist, trying to find the remnants of his touch. It was his "failsafe" on making sure she ate when he wasn't there.
Like now for instance.
God, let her forget, let her forget.
Just let this day already be over, let the eleventh roll over to the twelfth, let this not be a memorial.
Let it not be the day of the crash, let him still be there to hug her from behind, criticise when she was being stupid.
But God knows that she had to try and move on, fall in love with someone else but it was impossible with Jack hanging over, her alcohol the only way she covered it.
Another bitter wind brushed over her like a past shiver when she heard the news:
Twin Towers crashed, terrorist attack, flight 93, the rush to the kitchen fridge where the second receipt was kept, the dawning realisation, no survivors, attempt at saving the plane.
Let her fall in love with someone new, let her forget, let her be taken away by someone else.
Goosebumps raced across her flesh as she stood and walked to the raised edge of the building, staring down at the ground.
It would be a good a time as any. It wasn't like there was anyone left to care about her, Anna, (if she even cared anymore) would probably be relieved.
Her feet raised to stand on the top.
It was a lot higher from this view, her stability was swaying but then again that could be her indecisiveness.
Did she want someone to come and stop her? Or was she just waiting to feel some hint of remorse for all that she had done?
Well, anyway, it was probably time; time to go.
She slipped.
…o0o…
Sorry for the depressing story but it was really plaguing my mind and since I have writers block it seemed as good a time as any.
I know Elsa would probably be out of character and I apologise for that but it seems like one of the ways she would recover.