1
Rated R for pedo and Jerome-lovin.
Thanks many to the movie "Beautiful Girls" and to my beta, who waited patiently through a week of stalling, uncertainty, among other things.
She was uncommonly beautiful for her age, bright clear eyes and skin like a lake of milk.
"I don't want to hurt you." He said aloud as she drew closer, her hand on his thigh.
"You won't hurt me." She answered, tugging gently on the edges of her virginal white party nightgown. In the soft light she glowed, like a ghost or an angel.
Jerome Squalor awoke in a cold sweat.
He swallowed painfully, trying to control his own labored breathing as his heart slowly returned to something resembling a normal beat. He sat up and glanced at his wife, who remained undisturbed, sleeping less than a foot away.
He walked down the hall as quickly as possible, tying his robe tightly around his stomach as defense against the predawn chill. He glanced at the children's room, his hand running along the door as he walked past, down the hall to what had become his office.
Jerome dug around in his desk drawer until he found what he was looking for.
A half sheet of lined paper and two scribbled sentences.
I don't want anybody else. Come see me in my room.
He carefully placed it back in the drawer, and closed it, then sat down to contemplate the meaning of all this. A school girl's crush.
I'll go put a stop to it. That's what I'll do. It will end now, no harm done. We'll leave it our secret, soon enough she'll forget. And so will I.
She was asleep when he entered. The glow of the streetlight streamed through the window above her head, bathing her in light.
Glittering white skin that contrasted with black hair, and the coral pink of a young, soft mouth. Delicate bones like a bird, and he could see her ribs rising and falling with every slow breath.
Snow White in the flesh. Jesus, she was the most beautiful thing in creation.
As Jerome settled down on the bed beside her, Violet stirred and opened her eyes.
"I was beginning to think you weren't coming."
She yawned and stood up, turning to look out the window at the city scape below them.
"You were right. This view is the most beautiful view in the world."
Her wrinkled undershirt rode up as she stretched, giving Jerome a good look at her thighs and the back of her underwear. He looked away quickly.
"Get some clothes on, Violet." He said in the sternest voice he could muster.
"I have a wife I love very much." He said, realizing it sounded as hollow out loud as it had when he said it to himself.
"I'll do anything if we can stay here."
"Is that why you're doing this?"
"No." Violet admitted.
"Then why?"
Violet shrugged, and even in the dim light he could see her starting to blush.
"I'm lonely."
You and me both.
"Think of it this way," Violet continued, "If you're wrong, and neither of us feels bad afterwards than what was the harm? I'm not going to tell anyone and I'm sure you're not. My siblings and I can keep living here and . . . we'll be lonely together. If I'm wrong, then this was all a bad dream. And dreams don't mean anything."
"You're a child." Jerome said, trying to talk himself out of it.
"That's the thing. I've been looking after my brother and sister so long, I don't think I am anymore." She slipped out of her bathrobe, and crawled under the blankets next to Jerome.
Her flesh was warm and firm against his chest, the material of her undershirt offering little barrier between his skin and hers. She reached up and kissed him, the softness of her mouth different, the curve of her body new and strange to explore. He closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath as he realized who she reminded him of.
She was as beautiful as her mother had been.
He could resist no longer.
"I'm hungry." Violet murmured as the sun began to rise.
"I'll bring you some toast in a little while."
"I did something wrong, didn't I?" She asked.
Jerome sighed deeply. "No. You didn't do anything wrong."
He allowed her to lie against his chest for a moment longer, breathing in the mix of sweat and girl's perfume that enveloped the two.
But you're not who I thought you were.
Jerome gently untangled himself from her grasp.
"We made a mistake, Violet."
Violet said nothing for a while.
After a long moment, she spoke.
"Then it was just a bad dream. Right?"
Jerome stood up.
"I'll bring your breakfast in." He wanted to say more, but it was all he could think of.
Don't ruin it. Let it be this night and this night only, untainted by the bitterness of a relationship that would never work outside of shared fantasy. Let it end here and leave it beautiful. Beautiful.