Crimson Rain

My ribs were enclosed in a shell, being squeezed snuggly together by strips of curiously strong whalebone lathered in silk and satin. The smooth black Zeus fabric, made out of the finest silk complemented the crisp white that lay next to it. The black fabric flowed down toward the hand-sewn lace that lightly touched the petticoat underneath. It was surprisingly comfortable to wear a corset for ten hours straight, however, my feet felt bruised and blistered from the shoes that now sat by my side on the train. What a fantastic show it had been... the music was superb and touching, the acting too was exquisite. I felt as though I was drifting away until I jolted forward and the shuffle of feet began. I stood up draping the shawl over my shoulders. I slipped my shoes back on, my feet feeling considerably better. Everyone was rather excited to get off with their shopping bags and briefcases; meanwhile, I straightened out my skirt and grabbed a small silver bag, my only luggage.

Getting off the train everyone seemed to have vanished entirely... other than the odd car and an old man on the opposite side of the road everything seemed deserted. Lifting up my outer layer, showing the layers of lace beneath, I stepped over a rather deep looking puddle. The clouds were still glooming over, dangling in the night sky but seemed to have given up raining, giving the moon a chance to peak through. The cobble stone roads and paths were still shiny from the water that coated them as I headed toward the only campus buildings. I followed a path through the grass that lead to one of the universities larger and more beautiful buildings. I could see lights from the building in the distance and street lamps glowing from afar. Only the muffled moonlight would allow the stones to reflect their glow.

I was about to walk under a gorgeous arc when I heard a soft thump and an oomph coming from ahead. I proceeded into the square where I saw nothing... I continued walking, my heels echoing on the walls. I was about to step under the next arc when I heard a deep breathing coming from behind me. As I strained my ears, I heard the breathing intensify. I swiveled my head quickly- hitting anyone within a two-foot radius with my long, curly, red hair. No-one was to be seen but a shadow of unnatural darkness willowing in the corner. Curiosity and another groan apitised me to walk towards the corner. Getting closer I noticed a figure on the floor leaning upon the wall. There he was lying on the cold wet floor. His hair gently covering his face as his head lolled over his chest. His arm seemed to be clutching his side slowly lifting up and down- corresponding with his breathing. His boots were arched against stones that seemed to stick up slightly amongst the others. One leg was out and stiff, while the other was arched. His kilt seemed to fold over his legs with a slight slit at the front, due to the lack of a pin. His satchel was twisted to his side along with a small, but empty sheath. My eyes slowly continued up his body. The black top with gleaming silver buttons was torn where his frail fingers held on. There looked as though there was something oozing slowly from between them, it shocked me, and the subconscious stab in my back caused me to stagger forward. At the same time, the clouds crept away allowing the moon to dangle in the sky as it shone upon the corner. His head gradually lifted and his dark hair glided back revealing rivitingly, deep blue eyes- full of pain and agony, brightened by the new light lingering in the air around us. His head arched back down and his fingers slowly drifted away from the tear. The moon seemed to follow my eyes as I saw a deep gash in his side.

I knelt down reaching toward the wound when another more startled lift of his head attracted my hand to flow toward his face. His lips were bitten and iced with blood residue, and his eyes crawled into me- urging me further forward. He leaned towards me with a long deep breath and our lips rested on each others. His tender lips compelled me to continue as the faint taste of blood trickled into my mouth. I knew he needed immediate help, however, a cry deep inside me erupted me to quench my thirst. I ebbed slowly away, my hand not willing to follow. I gently rested my hand on his knee and without warning, the kilt slid further. Paying no attention to it, my hand once again left my side in order to hover over the blood that was collecting in a knife created pool. My fingertips tingled and cycled over the surface. I could feel his deep penetrating stare, probably one of confusion or anticipation. I reached behind my back snatching the ribbon from around my waist and detached a ruffle from my dress. I straightened them out between my fingers. The back of my index finger skimmed the blood, decreasing the pool ever so slightly. He moved a little and kept a groan beneath his breath. My index finger lifted its self-up and automatically went so my tongue could clean it off... slowly. I knew what I was about to do would sting him a lot, but the excitement seemed overwhelming.

I glanced at him giving a quick smile prior to me leaning back toward the slash. My fingers attempted to clear away as much blood as possible. Now drenched in blood, inclining to be licked clean the tips dipped into my mouth elegantly before I wiped the rest away on his black blazer. My fingers twirled around the sliver buttons slowly undoing them one by one, as the light made them glimmer. The blazer opened to show a crisp white shirt drenched in certain areas with a stunning amount of blood. That too came off, but slightly quicker since I could now hear the pain deepen in his harsh breathing. I shunned the shirts to the side of his body as to keep his arms warm while removing all fabric surrounding the gash. I let my fingers wander down gently while holding the ribbon and soft lace. I pressed the lace in the cut absorbing all the blood my hands missed. A cry of anguish echoed around me. Paying no attention, I bent down as to tightly wrap the ribbon around his firm stomach and muscular back. I could feel him shiver and his spine curving as I continued to spin... getting more and more entranced. After the 4 meters of black ribbon ran out, I took the kilt pin with a small family crest on it off the floor and secured the ribbon in place.

His riveting eyes seemed watery after the pressure was lifted off. Moreover, his posture somewhat relieved. I slowly moved forward, gently re-doing his buttons slowly, meanwhile, my heart was weighing down, as I became more and more vigorous inside. His hand suddenly moved as if to stop me, however they stopped as suddenly as they had begun. My eyes closed and re-opened, my hand went to hold his side before stopping and drawing back in a clenched fist. My thoughts wandered into dreams as I longed to loop my arms under his to reach his neck, run my fingers over his chest while reaching to the side, trying to tie a knot with our tongues.

I woke up for a moment and found myself standing up under the archway from which I entered. I glanced at him... I could see his shadow squirm as he attempted to stand. I walked briskly toward him, with a twinge of worry. He was leaning on the wall with his shirt open, blood everywhere and kilt unpinned. I heard a sudden crack as the sky once again filled with moisture as the clouds hid the stars and pelted it down with rain. I felt a cold hand touch my face; I swayed forward to meet a pair of succulent lips again, this time more moist. His hand landed just above my hip, while the other combed my hair onto my back. I could feel his hand become heavier on my hip... calming me down. My hand slipped into his shirt as his tired head bent down and bit my neck. He started to descend backwards... loosing my grip he fell on to the wall and slid back down. As he landed, I heard a quiet chuckle.

He slowly reached for my skirt and gently tugged me downward. I fell down to his side. He wore a pleasant smile, a smile that made me feel tranquil and almost outgoingly shy. I looked back up him, not noticing how close we were. I did not even notice how soft and light his breath had become, even when I could feel it on my cheek. When his lips followed as well as a crack or lightning, I brushed my face beside his and licked a trickle of blood coming from his head. When I stopped, he lifted my head on to his lips and massaged the inside of my mouth until my tongue stopped tingling. I noticed that his hand was underneath my soaked shawl and was caressing me. I smiled to my self and lent further forward, towards his lips. My arms pushed against his body, slowly crawling around. He drew a short breath and moaned slightly as I touched his wound; my arms were all around him, as if we were embracing each other in the night. He bit my lip and my toes curled. The water continued to splatter us; I slowly left his warm hold and stroked his chest.

His breathing was not nearly as harsh as it was before…I was entranced by him lying on a cold wet floor, allowing his blood to trickle into the drain and be consumed by thirsty rats. He shuffled around slightly on the ground reaching for something quite near. His slow motion made my eyes close again and my heartbeat quicken, especially when his kilt fell further off his strong legs. He lifted up a long blade that glinted in the light; he pulled me forward using the ribbon on my shawl. The ribbon ran through its self until it was once again separate; he brushed the shawl off my shoulders and moved my hair to the back. He cupped my left shoulder gently kneading it ever so slightly. The blade punctured my skin and dragged down slightly, I felt a warm tingle as the blood oozed out. I tipped toward his luscious lips, my tongue slid across his smooth teeth and his hand caressed my neck, descending toward my chest. My neck extended as his lips made tracks following the path of his hand. My muscles twinged faintly beneath the sanctity of my corset and other lavish fabrics that were slowly absorbing the blood. I felt him suck on my neck bone and his tongue glide over my wound. I heard a quiet moan from the depth of the ruffle. Subconsciously my hands brushed his hair, and slid once again into his shirt. One hand was holding his hip and every time my finger flickered; he sighed heavily. His warm breath sent shivers down my spine as it blew on the cold droplets of rain and blood.

He started whispering my ear in a deep mysterious voice with a distinct Scottish accent. Whispering lavish thoughts and sweet implications. His voice was neither weak nor sick; it was as if we were spilling blood for the luxury of having it. His lips kissed me tenderly, the subtle noise making my ears tingle. Our grips tightened as we strove to be closer still; letting our hands run up, down and inside each other, the taste of his blood still dripping on my tongue.

There we laid, lying in each other's arms, embracing each other's heat, and hexing each other's dreams with our thoughts. For hours, they seemed to continue, weaving through thoughts and hopes, while our breathing slowed down and hung in unison. It had been and still was the best night that passed through our time. Forever in darkness we shall linger, forever we shall taste each other, frozen beneath the moonlight, to forever stay young and pierced.