Hey, sorry that this chapter is so short, but I've neen frustrated with
llamas. What is with these llamas? This chapter is kinda a drag because the
lack of reviews is no inspiration. But if you are good, I'll make chapter
four a llama! Hopefully, that's a good thing.
Part One - Chapter Three
Red and concealed with a dignified purple wax seal, this envelope practically let out the shrew cry of "I'm important, only for the rich and perfect people. Get your hands off me, you peasant!" I felt it pulse through my hands; the shock of its glow almost made it slip from my hands into the undeserving floor. On the front, there was a carefully written text titled to a "Doctor Eriol Hiiragizawa." It practically reaked wealth, and I wondered if Eriol was a man that, er. . . associated with this kind of people.
With the stealth of a mouse, I crept quietly into the office room, quiet and empty of its owner. Once I dropped the red letter unto the top of the mahogany base, a voice rang out from behind.
"What's that, sweeheart?"
Ironically, I turned around to face Eriol Hiiragizawa, a man of wealth and dignity sitting in an scarlet ottoman looking desirable in his business suit. Cautiously, I shrugged my head in question. My hand handed the envelope to him, trying desperately not to brush against his hand, yet God's mighty humor, would not allow such a thing, and felt the coursing shiver rush through me as they both touched. I drew back like it was burning flames, scorching me with it.
A curved eyebrow showed amusement, and at that, I growled menacingly. Always to mock or humiliate me, I swear that's his plan during my stay here. A moment later, after his eyes skimmed through the mail, I waited impatiently for his response to the mystery of the scarlet letter. Once he read it, a sigh escape from his mouth, and his face looked like a bored mess. Obviously, he was oblivious to my interest in finding out about the contents of that dammed envelope. I coughed rather obviously to get his undivided attention, yet I knew even if I strip danced in front of him, Dr. Hiiragizawa was going to ignore me as usual.
But there was times when a tiny whisper from a wandering butterfly could inspire him to such depth in listening. Fortunately, this was one of those times.
"Yes? Wondering what this is, my curious little angel? Well . . . um, it's something that doesn't concern you much. You may leave."
There, he dismissed me with a brief wave of the hand, like a master would do with a servant. Such arrogance! My hands found the curve of my hip, standing with the best intimidating position I can possibly do. Being an ex- angel didn't help much, however. Imagine a rather tiny rabbit trying to scare off a fox at the point of his eating her.
"Fine. Sure, I will tell you everything you need to know about this letter if you promise to grant me one wish and a kiss from the lovely lady."
I tried to breathe, seriously. But when Eriol spoke a word about granting a wish, it reminded me about the days a lifetime ago when that was the only thing that concerned her: make Eriol Hiiragizawa's wishes come true to repay the hospitality and heroic deeds of a wonderful man, with somehow falling in love with him in the journey ahead. Curiousity attacked silently, clawing my back into its stupor. I wanted to know what was in that scarlet letter, even if it cost painful memories and kiss that will lead to more regrets seeping in through my wounds.
I nodded.
"Come here. I shall tell you what I desire, and you must absolutely follow my wishes."
Closer, I stepped forward into his trap, knowing too well that it was cost me more than a kiss and a simple wish. When I stood a foot away, denying to go any more steps to my eternal doom, those arms of his, ohh, I do love those arms, yet I seem to dislike it very much right now, encircled around my waist, drawing me into an intimate position on his lap. Like some absurd version of Santa Claus and a child.
I gasped at the sudden abruptness and embarressing situation I have found myself in, gaining another conceited chuckle from Eriol. Lips tickled the soft skin on my sensitive little ear, as he drew a long, exasperating breath.
"Mmm. You smell divine. Sweetheart, you immortal sin. Well, you want to know what's it about. The red envelope? It is an invitation to one of L'Andres insane parties. An annual rendezvous for the company that sponsers our hospital. This one is to support the new raise in allowances towards the hospital if I can persuade him. This is where you come in."
All this was whispered softly in her ear, as if it was an illicit secret, confidential to the world. Where did a mute woman play in all this? What can I possibly do?
"You are to play my fiance. L'Andres is rather fond of men with families. I figure that with a woman, a rather attractive one, at that, is by my side, I will win the heart of L'Andres and his money."
The news practically blew me away, literally. At the words spoken from his mouth, I started and nearly fell if Eriol didn't capture me around his embrace once again. This was insane. Propostrous! Impossible, far-fetched. I did not want anything to do with this scam. The idea of playing an act of sharing intimate signs of love and acting the loving couple seemd almost a dream come true. Yet in the end, it would hurt me in the most bittersweet way; reality will draw me back to earth to face the hard, cold facts that this charade wasn't true. That he didn't love me, and I was just an imperfect, mute woman who had no talent except for being an awkard klutz.
I squirmed, trying to escape the warm homage in his lap. I don't want to do this; I don't want to torchure myself once more of a dream way too far to exist.
"Please, sweetheart. Do this for the children. They need the money."
Children. I groaned unexpectedly. He used children to bait me into his trap. How low of him, and he knew it would work. I loved children . . . even . . . even, um, er, even wanted one for myself. At this thought I drew my head up, with my eyes meeting with his, as if it was a condition deep in me when I mention children and Eriol. I knew my eyes revealed too much of how muck I loved this idiot whom I was treating like a chair, so I turned my head swiftly away.
I could feel his heated gaze looking oddly at me, while his finger reached to caress my dainty chin. Fansy fingerwork, every graze of his callous, gentle hands made me shiver in fear and desire. Finally, his fingers moved my head to face him once again, as vulnerable as I was years before.
"Do this for me. The children mean a lot to me. Plus, I want to show you off to my friends. They'll be an envious green, I swear."
So this was all a plot to show me off to his cynical friends. Well I hope God damns them all to hell. Opps. I don't angels, even if they are ex- angels, are supposed to wish people are condemned to hell. But I could help but drown in those jet-lag sapphires, as dark as the sky and gentle as the moon; wicked with its power to bewitch me, I fell deeper. All I could do was nod reluctantly; eye contact still existed between us. Azul to amethyst.
Then we kissed. The kissed I promised, the one I wanted myself. The one I needed to survive, to exist. Our tongues danced, my heart raced, and tears were forced to hold back for the pain suffocated me. This isn't real, simply a pity play, a toy; yet I wouldn't care. As long as I got to feel this, to feel almost loved, and pretend that maybe he did love me half as I loved him. Damn, why does my heart aches so? Why do I want more?
Even when I can't get anymore than this current bliss?
But what is bliss without reality? I wish this was reality; I really do.
************* Preparations were getting done. Well, at least I was. Eriol personally had a dressmaker, apart from my objections about the money which he excused as nothing, the important thing was that I radiated beauty to blind all the men into lust and envy, while he has his arm tight upon my waist. Silks were thrown, satin was discarded, lace were intimidated by the glare of the dressmaker, until the dress of heavenly expectations was born with I as its captive. A quite content captive, actually.
Such luxury was poisoning me, but I loved every minute of the material against my skin. It felt wonderful, like a princess to prepare for her debut, to meet with the gorgeous prince, and to live the happliest ever after. As I stand here, judging my appearance, moments away from the party, the mirror seem to discriminate every look. Nothing seem good enough for the rich and fortunate. All those ladies with their haunty looks sought with a prejudice eye, and I could bear being a second rate to them, to Eriol. A sighed.
At this rate, Eriol Hiiragizawa would discard me sooner or later, like yesterday's last fallen leaf.
"Beautiful. You truely are a wonderful sight, and I shall never leave your side because I'm afraid some worm might steal you, mi'lady, but you are mine for tonight. All mine to do as I wish, and you will beg me to taste you and possess every curve of your body. Think of that everytime a man even dares to approach you. Think of this."
At this point, his heated breath was against my cheek, as the tips of his fingers fondled the bare swan neck that belongs to me. I shiver, not from the cold, but from the heat. My eyes turned into slits, as I tried to defy him, but then his nose took place of his finger, taking in my scent. Deeply erotic. After grazing the silk lands, his tongue played against my skin, creating a warm passage of blood to my face. A moan escaped, and my defective attempt to controll him failed, as I sunk into a land of pleasure.
There he left with a satisfied smirk, that boyish grin that drives me into a puddle of liquid dreams. I'll show him! I will tonight. Then, dear Eriol, what will your charm do then? What will happen to your charm when I destroy you of all feeling and flirting with other women, and rap you in my spell? Are angels supposed to be thinking such wicked thought?
Probably not. But angels can't kiss the passionate dance I shared with Eriol Hiiragizawa. Definitely not an option. Yet, love makes the world go round. I'm going to make Hiiragizawa's head go round by the end of the night, round with green jealousy. Should angels learn to lap dance?
A/N: Lap dance? How am I supposed to make angels lap dance? May the force of Budda (sp?) be with me.
Part One - Chapter Three
Red and concealed with a dignified purple wax seal, this envelope practically let out the shrew cry of "I'm important, only for the rich and perfect people. Get your hands off me, you peasant!" I felt it pulse through my hands; the shock of its glow almost made it slip from my hands into the undeserving floor. On the front, there was a carefully written text titled to a "Doctor Eriol Hiiragizawa." It practically reaked wealth, and I wondered if Eriol was a man that, er. . . associated with this kind of people.
With the stealth of a mouse, I crept quietly into the office room, quiet and empty of its owner. Once I dropped the red letter unto the top of the mahogany base, a voice rang out from behind.
"What's that, sweeheart?"
Ironically, I turned around to face Eriol Hiiragizawa, a man of wealth and dignity sitting in an scarlet ottoman looking desirable in his business suit. Cautiously, I shrugged my head in question. My hand handed the envelope to him, trying desperately not to brush against his hand, yet God's mighty humor, would not allow such a thing, and felt the coursing shiver rush through me as they both touched. I drew back like it was burning flames, scorching me with it.
A curved eyebrow showed amusement, and at that, I growled menacingly. Always to mock or humiliate me, I swear that's his plan during my stay here. A moment later, after his eyes skimmed through the mail, I waited impatiently for his response to the mystery of the scarlet letter. Once he read it, a sigh escape from his mouth, and his face looked like a bored mess. Obviously, he was oblivious to my interest in finding out about the contents of that dammed envelope. I coughed rather obviously to get his undivided attention, yet I knew even if I strip danced in front of him, Dr. Hiiragizawa was going to ignore me as usual.
But there was times when a tiny whisper from a wandering butterfly could inspire him to such depth in listening. Fortunately, this was one of those times.
"Yes? Wondering what this is, my curious little angel? Well . . . um, it's something that doesn't concern you much. You may leave."
There, he dismissed me with a brief wave of the hand, like a master would do with a servant. Such arrogance! My hands found the curve of my hip, standing with the best intimidating position I can possibly do. Being an ex- angel didn't help much, however. Imagine a rather tiny rabbit trying to scare off a fox at the point of his eating her.
"Fine. Sure, I will tell you everything you need to know about this letter if you promise to grant me one wish and a kiss from the lovely lady."
I tried to breathe, seriously. But when Eriol spoke a word about granting a wish, it reminded me about the days a lifetime ago when that was the only thing that concerned her: make Eriol Hiiragizawa's wishes come true to repay the hospitality and heroic deeds of a wonderful man, with somehow falling in love with him in the journey ahead. Curiousity attacked silently, clawing my back into its stupor. I wanted to know what was in that scarlet letter, even if it cost painful memories and kiss that will lead to more regrets seeping in through my wounds.
I nodded.
"Come here. I shall tell you what I desire, and you must absolutely follow my wishes."
Closer, I stepped forward into his trap, knowing too well that it was cost me more than a kiss and a simple wish. When I stood a foot away, denying to go any more steps to my eternal doom, those arms of his, ohh, I do love those arms, yet I seem to dislike it very much right now, encircled around my waist, drawing me into an intimate position on his lap. Like some absurd version of Santa Claus and a child.
I gasped at the sudden abruptness and embarressing situation I have found myself in, gaining another conceited chuckle from Eriol. Lips tickled the soft skin on my sensitive little ear, as he drew a long, exasperating breath.
"Mmm. You smell divine. Sweetheart, you immortal sin. Well, you want to know what's it about. The red envelope? It is an invitation to one of L'Andres insane parties. An annual rendezvous for the company that sponsers our hospital. This one is to support the new raise in allowances towards the hospital if I can persuade him. This is where you come in."
All this was whispered softly in her ear, as if it was an illicit secret, confidential to the world. Where did a mute woman play in all this? What can I possibly do?
"You are to play my fiance. L'Andres is rather fond of men with families. I figure that with a woman, a rather attractive one, at that, is by my side, I will win the heart of L'Andres and his money."
The news practically blew me away, literally. At the words spoken from his mouth, I started and nearly fell if Eriol didn't capture me around his embrace once again. This was insane. Propostrous! Impossible, far-fetched. I did not want anything to do with this scam. The idea of playing an act of sharing intimate signs of love and acting the loving couple seemd almost a dream come true. Yet in the end, it would hurt me in the most bittersweet way; reality will draw me back to earth to face the hard, cold facts that this charade wasn't true. That he didn't love me, and I was just an imperfect, mute woman who had no talent except for being an awkard klutz.
I squirmed, trying to escape the warm homage in his lap. I don't want to do this; I don't want to torchure myself once more of a dream way too far to exist.
"Please, sweetheart. Do this for the children. They need the money."
Children. I groaned unexpectedly. He used children to bait me into his trap. How low of him, and he knew it would work. I loved children . . . even . . . even, um, er, even wanted one for myself. At this thought I drew my head up, with my eyes meeting with his, as if it was a condition deep in me when I mention children and Eriol. I knew my eyes revealed too much of how muck I loved this idiot whom I was treating like a chair, so I turned my head swiftly away.
I could feel his heated gaze looking oddly at me, while his finger reached to caress my dainty chin. Fansy fingerwork, every graze of his callous, gentle hands made me shiver in fear and desire. Finally, his fingers moved my head to face him once again, as vulnerable as I was years before.
"Do this for me. The children mean a lot to me. Plus, I want to show you off to my friends. They'll be an envious green, I swear."
So this was all a plot to show me off to his cynical friends. Well I hope God damns them all to hell. Opps. I don't angels, even if they are ex- angels, are supposed to wish people are condemned to hell. But I could help but drown in those jet-lag sapphires, as dark as the sky and gentle as the moon; wicked with its power to bewitch me, I fell deeper. All I could do was nod reluctantly; eye contact still existed between us. Azul to amethyst.
Then we kissed. The kissed I promised, the one I wanted myself. The one I needed to survive, to exist. Our tongues danced, my heart raced, and tears were forced to hold back for the pain suffocated me. This isn't real, simply a pity play, a toy; yet I wouldn't care. As long as I got to feel this, to feel almost loved, and pretend that maybe he did love me half as I loved him. Damn, why does my heart aches so? Why do I want more?
Even when I can't get anymore than this current bliss?
But what is bliss without reality? I wish this was reality; I really do.
************* Preparations were getting done. Well, at least I was. Eriol personally had a dressmaker, apart from my objections about the money which he excused as nothing, the important thing was that I radiated beauty to blind all the men into lust and envy, while he has his arm tight upon my waist. Silks were thrown, satin was discarded, lace were intimidated by the glare of the dressmaker, until the dress of heavenly expectations was born with I as its captive. A quite content captive, actually.
Such luxury was poisoning me, but I loved every minute of the material against my skin. It felt wonderful, like a princess to prepare for her debut, to meet with the gorgeous prince, and to live the happliest ever after. As I stand here, judging my appearance, moments away from the party, the mirror seem to discriminate every look. Nothing seem good enough for the rich and fortunate. All those ladies with their haunty looks sought with a prejudice eye, and I could bear being a second rate to them, to Eriol. A sighed.
At this rate, Eriol Hiiragizawa would discard me sooner or later, like yesterday's last fallen leaf.
"Beautiful. You truely are a wonderful sight, and I shall never leave your side because I'm afraid some worm might steal you, mi'lady, but you are mine for tonight. All mine to do as I wish, and you will beg me to taste you and possess every curve of your body. Think of that everytime a man even dares to approach you. Think of this."
At this point, his heated breath was against my cheek, as the tips of his fingers fondled the bare swan neck that belongs to me. I shiver, not from the cold, but from the heat. My eyes turned into slits, as I tried to defy him, but then his nose took place of his finger, taking in my scent. Deeply erotic. After grazing the silk lands, his tongue played against my skin, creating a warm passage of blood to my face. A moan escaped, and my defective attempt to controll him failed, as I sunk into a land of pleasure.
There he left with a satisfied smirk, that boyish grin that drives me into a puddle of liquid dreams. I'll show him! I will tonight. Then, dear Eriol, what will your charm do then? What will happen to your charm when I destroy you of all feeling and flirting with other women, and rap you in my spell? Are angels supposed to be thinking such wicked thought?
Probably not. But angels can't kiss the passionate dance I shared with Eriol Hiiragizawa. Definitely not an option. Yet, love makes the world go round. I'm going to make Hiiragizawa's head go round by the end of the night, round with green jealousy. Should angels learn to lap dance?
A/N: Lap dance? How am I supposed to make angels lap dance? May the force of Budda (sp?) be with me.