So am I the only one who is extremely depressed that Halloween 2014 is over?
Every cell in his body was on fire, vibrating with life. With each button Michael undid, a wave of something completely unknown hit him. He was drowning in anticipation, curiosity.
He had to undress her. It wasn't as though he wanted to. He had to.
When he reached the bottom of the dress, his eyes flitted up to her face, almost shyly; Minka was looking at him through her thick lashes, her brow slightly furrowed. It was a strange look, one Michael couldn't understand. Gently, he slipped a hand behind her back and brought her forward, then slid the material off her shoulders. He hesitated before pulling her arms up and out of the sleeves.
He didn't want to hurt her anymore.
Heat radiated from Minka's bare, glistening skin. Even after all that had happened, all the blood on her clothes, she smelled sweet; like roses.
Michael rested the nurse back against the bathtub and began to untie her shoes, taking care to not look at her almost completely exposed chest. Once the sneakers were off, he reached for her stockings, pulling them off from her toes. His eyes became glued to her legs; delicate, pale, with soft curves.
What was wrong with him?
"Please take...this bandage off," Minka whispered almost too soft to hear. He nodded, turning the water off before kneeling very close to her and untying the knot.
She whimpered and gave his chest a weak push.
"It h-hurts so much." Michael bit back his guilt and self-loathing, trying to regain focus. The makeshift bandage was difficult to peel away from the wound, the blood practically acting as glue. She began to cry softly and gripped his arm.
He pulled the material from around her, revealing the injury. Thankfully, it was made by a very small-caliber bullet, but the surrounding area was red and swollen. He'd waited too long to clean it.
He needed to get it over with. It was his own hesitation making things worse.
Hugging her to him, Michael pulled the dress down past her hips and legs. Minka's bra seemed to be clasped in the front. He shifted her so that her right side was leaning against him; she was shaking, like a child waking up from a nightmare.
Tentatively, his fingers played with the clasp until it gave away; her chest sprung free of the material. He tried to turn away, but her body was demanding attention and adoration, though she didn't know it.