The Intimacy of Sugar
Twisted, entwined shadows fought against their boundaries in an attempt to free the demons that lurked within. Light entered from uncloaked windows skimming over objects, distorting their forms and bringing memories of monsters past – real and not. He lay breathing steadily, unperturbed, though his senses wished otherwise. Paranoia could not claim him like it used to and though he liked to think it was an emotion conquered, there were still times when his blood ran cold. Tonight, however, was not one of them or perhaps, being well acquainted with such a feeling, he had long since learned when a real threat was present and the monsters real.
'Things are more than they seem' a sentiment shared amongst many people, especially those wishing to appear wise and knowing. He was more inclined to present a less threatening theory, one of that 'things are generally much less than what they appear'. A good line to hide one's nature and more often then not quite true, the intimidating shadows being an appropriate example. A grin flashed over his face thinking of the swaying trees outside that cast such shadows, how wonderfully innocent they would be tomorrow sheltering them from the sun whilst enjoying tea and cakes. Unfortunately it was best to keep in mind that people were, as a general rule, much more complicated then crafty shadows.
His grin faltered at that last thought, a look of displeasure replacing it as he glared into the darkness with an eye that most would say was the colour of freshly spilled blood or, if they were in the mind of wooing him, that of velveteen rose. Naturally he felt the former a more fitting description especially now as his mood darkened and he thought of those who stood in his way. His history was not for the faint of heart - upon his path he had left many red-stained footprints and the lives that had provided the dye for them. It was without a doubt that this path would be further stained, or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that he had waded through a river of red and was to be drowned in it. Either way it left a most unpleasant and sour taste in his mouth, one that must be remedied, something sweet to drown out the sour.
His arm flailed towards the ornate nightstand he kept for when such needs arose. Reaching out, he first encountered something soft and his grin returned. Taking a moment to relish in his doll, fingering it lightly as he remembered how useful she could be. 'Things are more than they seem indeed,' he chuckled. He pushed it to the floor, after all without his will it was nothing more than a doll (though others would swear otherwise) and it had no comments to spit back at him. This brief encounter had cheered him slightly but he still craved the sugary contentment that engulfed his taste buds and dispelled aftertastes. A bit more fumbling resulted in his hand slipping over the edge as he clumsily found the drawer handle.
Cold to the touch he grasped the handle, a little displeased at how his desire had affected his movements and was glad that he only shared these moments with false monsters and the darkness. Sitting up to lean on his free elbow he took a firm hold and yanked the draw open. The candy tin was shunted forward with the movement and the candy inside rattled reassuringly. A spark of relief and glee came from within him, an unknown irrational fear that it may have been taken from him dissolved. Feeling calmer than before he reached for the tin.
Just having it within his grasp he felt his taste buds tingle with anticipation, prior thoughts whisked away as he focused on the task of opening the tin. Experienced and greedy fingers opened it with ease; savouring the scent that tantalized the taste buds and tickled the nose, he inhaled once more to tease himself. Plunging into the depths of the tin, the tips of his fingers grasping hold of a wrapper and without fail the candy was free from its prison. The crackle of the wrapper, harsh to his ears, disturbed the silence the night had brought, though to him the discomfort was a small price to pay.
The candy hovered at his mouth, hand shaking ever so slightly as he indulged in the tingling sensation on his tongue as it readied itself, as he readied himself, for the sweet relief to come. The sweetness brushed against his lips and rested there for a moment, hard meeting soft, his tongue pushed though to greet it. The tip brushing tentatively over it, oversensitive from the anticipation it sent a shiver down his spine. With that all reservations were lost and the candy disappeared into an eager mouth, and as if enraptured with it he swirled the candy around within his mouth. Giving it undivided attention he felt sugar coat his tongue and his mind was blank, only paying heed to what his taste buds were saying, he accepted his moment of bliss.
With a sickening crunch he brought himself back to reality, only for a moment would he allow himself to be caught up in such complacency before destroying the thing that gave it to him. The last few morsels quickly swallowed and he tasted his lips to make sure there was no lingering sugar there. As he started to come back to his senses the sugar died on his tongue, as did the intensity of the feelings before and when his mind calmed he felt the lull of sleep take him. 'How wonderful' he thought to himself, 'when things are just what they are.' The tin fell to the floor to join the little doll. Some of the candies made their escape, as he was called into sleep thinking of sugar, its simplicity and the tea and cakes he would be having under the swaying trees with its crafty shadows.
By Willingabyss
