Winged

I only remembered feelings...
...and images blurred as time seem to pass by.

I knew he hated me. Or even perhaps loathed me.
It's always the same: me watching him as he glides down the hallway with his trench coat sweeping around him like wings of feathers.
He didn't see me, of course.
But I was right there in his path.

I forgot if he asked me out to the dance festival.
But I dressed up anyway that night. Blue, silk dress, thrown off my shoulders revealing pale skin.
Did I fix my hair or even put on make-up?
I cannot recall...
Only I found myself inside his car.
No, not in the passenger seat, though he was the one who drove, there was someone else there beside him. I was slumped in the back, seated with his friends.
I did not see her face only that she laughed and giggled flirtatiously along with him, touching his lap from time to time, rubbing them and pressing on his crotch.

We got to the place. I felt numb. I didn't move. My body seems to resist going out of the car.
It doesn't matter.
I am invisible.
I do not exist. He wouldn't notice.

The valet took his keys; he threw them at the man waiting beside his door.
I was still inside.
My heart shattered into a million broken pieces. I held on to my purse, as if my life depended on it alone... or was it a pillow? I didn't remember...
Then he suddenly shoved his head from the open window and motioned at me.

"Well, aren't you coming?"

Almost a smile.
Still a broken heart.
For a moment I felt silly.
Why would he leave me? He asked me to be here didn't he?

He wore a black tuxedo.. wrapped around him like the night. He was the star. He was *my* star.
He opened the door.
Everyone else had gone out that time, I reckoned they were probably inside.
I slowly removed myself, peeling away from the comfort of the leather seat and took his waiting hand.
Was this for real?
I wasn't even sure.. and I never had time to realize it when he lifted me up and held me possessively in his arms and embrace.
We were so close... so painfully close...
My heart was pounding loudly inside my chest.
He smelled of vanilla musk...
I knew that I would never forget.
His hand tightened on the bareness of my shoulders.

How can this be?
I didn't understand... he acted as if he did not see me everyday, but now this?

I sank deeper into his arms, melting away as we walked inside, lavishing in his scent.

I stood there in the spacious room. Daylight streaming from the curtained windows. The sun was almost blinding.
No one else was there.
Just me, and a few other people sulking behind their desks.
He was gone. And I couldn't find him.

I called out to him. I called out his name... whispering to the slight breeze that had swept my neatly bounded hair.
My hair—falling unto my shoulders.
I felt free...
I called out to him again... twice... thrice...
He wasn't anywhere.
And I walked endlessly into no direction.
Behind a wall...
My feet taking me to where I never knew the place... where does it all lead to?

A gallery.
Yes, I remember now.
A wall of painting, a mural.
Vibrant colors, whiplash, long, hard strokes covered the once white wall. Only one wall. And the other walls that surround me are gleaming pure white.
I could not see the images clearly, no matter how hard I try to strain my eyes at them.

A shiver running down my spine... and yet, warm.
He was there, suddenly. And he held me close to him like before.
We stood there facing the paintings.
His warm, gentle fingers caressed my shoulders as I leaned back against him.
I struggled to get away from him, as my fear gnawed.

"Don't."
But as soon as he whispered my name, grazing his tongue inside my earlobes, I knew I was lost. I melted.
We leaned against each other.
No one else was there. We were alone.
Butterfly kisses down my neck as I threw my head back. His hands were tenderly running across my waist, to the small of my back as he pressed his body more against mine.
I felt a tinge of red creeping on my cheeks, I began to quiver at his touch.
At which point had elicited a moan from my throat.

Too much.
Desire. Pleasure.

His hands floated between my breasts, down back to my waist again, until he finally settled them on my hips. His hungry lips found mine now and he kissed me hard, sucking on my tongue, biting on my lower lip. I could feel his erection between his trousers. I wanted to feel them but he wouldn't let me as he chained my hands to his chest.
Our tongues in fiery grasp of each other.
Lifting my dress up, slipping his warm, skillful fingers inside my panties...
His fingers made their way down, and found where all the desire I had been repressing were focused.
I was feeling hot. And I was wet. He knew that as well when he moaned and groaned in between our passionate kiss.
For a moment...
As he slipped a finger inside me, I jerked back...
Mixed emotions welled up inside me... of hurt, of pain, of anguish... pleasure, desire, lust...
He whispered my name over and over, moaning and begging...
Murmuring softly...
I could feel nothing else.
I didn't want to feel anything else...
Just him.
He continued the onslaught of me, two.. three fingers twisted jerking in and out of me, I felt my wetness dripping down my legs. Moaning louder only kept him jerking it all the more and faster.

Until I never knew when all had stopped.
I shivered.
I felt like I reached heaven.. I thought I had gone insane.
I completely lost myself.

He called me back.

But after which he walked away again. I saw him this time, slip out of my arms. Quite suddenly.
His black trench coat flaring behind him. Like winged feathers.

I stood there.
Yes, the paintings.
They were real, weren't they?
For a while, I only stood there frozen in the moment.

I have to lie down.
I want to float into dreams.
Please let me dream...

Was this real?
I felt myself floating. Slowly I began tumbling down on the floor... the breeze had caught me.

It laid me gently on the floor.
Pure white.

I want to dream...
And I did.

Then, there was only darkness.
Only comforting darkness.

FINIS.