Inspiration Ch. 07

Her eyes stared upward, waited to see the first glimpse of his apartment. Her eyes moved with the motion of the elevator. The elevator neared his apartment and the first thing she saw was the author's silhouette. Her face's expression tightened with its angered expression as her eyes focused on him through the moving gate.

The elevator stopped and she swiftly lifted the gate as her eyes remained on him. The gate lifted, she stood there glaring at him as he stood with his arms crossed over his bare chest.

Then she finally took a step forward out the elevator then asked, "What the hell was that all about?"

He slowly exhaled through his nose then stated, "Exactly what I said." he uncrossed his arms, turned then walked away but repeated what he said through the call box, "There's no need."

Her jaw dropped and she stormed forward. Her heels clacked against the concrete floor as she marched his direction. "No need?!" she shouted tossing her arms in air, "What the hell is that supposed mean?"

His bare feet went to a complete stop.

She nearly stumbled the moment he stopped then stared at the back of his fedora wearing head. She snapped, "Well?!"

He turned to the side, his dark eyes looked to the frustration riddled expression over her face. His eyes dropped then he turned his back to her and stated, "There's no reason for you to have come back."

He continued forward then turned headed for the kitchen.

She loudly gasped in shock then rushed to follow him. "What?!" she shouted then turned following him to the kitchen, "Why?!"

He stepped behind the kitchen island then opened the wine fridge, pulled out a new bottle. Again he turned his back to her, fetched the cork screw.

She stomped up to the island, slapped her hands atop the granite counter top then asked, "Why is there no reason for me to come back, huh?"

He twisted the cork screw into the wine bottle cork then stated, "You're not needed."

Her eyes flinched wide and mouth again dropped open. Then her mouth closed, lips pursed together and eyes narrowed. She lowly grumbled under a heated breath. She suddenly spat, "Asshole!"

He briefly froze with surprise, no one had ever called him an asshole. He jerked the cork from the bottle then tossed down the cork screw.

She again spat at him, "Fucker!"

His eyes grew wider and slowly he turned, his head first followed by his eyes then body. He immediately saw the anger being glared back at him across the kitchen island. His brow furrowed, the center lines deepened.

She lifted her hand then pointed at him with scold and she warned, "Don't you even fucking dare look at me like that, you..." she felt another curse build, "You dick!"

Oh, she was fed up!

She shoved back away from the island with her head angrily shaking back and forth. Again she pointed at him then spewed her frustrations, "That's right, you're a fucking dick!" she took a step back, one hand planted on her hip and the other continuing to aim her finger at him, "I come back here to give you what you fucking wanted in the first place and you basically tell me to fuck off!"

She spun on her heels, tossed her fists in the air then loudly growled.

She spun again and faced him over the island. Again her finger aimed at him then she grumbled, "How dare you!" she stepped back to the island with her arm stretched out and finger still aimed, "You pursued me, you asshole, and when you're about to get what you wanted, you fucking back down!" she slammed her hand against the counter, "Screw you, Victor Hardway!"

She took a step back then gave him the middle finger in sign for him to fuck off. Her heels ground against the floor spinning her around then she stormed away persistently cursing him under her breath.

His nostrils flared and jaw clenched. He released the bottle of wine and left it on the counter. He snapped, "God dammit!"

Around the island he stormed, his bare feet slapped against the concrete floor. He shouted at her, "Get your ass back here, now!"

She stormed towards the brick divider wall then shouted back at him, "Fuck you!"

His long legs strode forward in her direction as she moved passed the brick wall. He shouted after her, "Rosangela!"

She entered the elevator, spun around and grabbed the gate. Her eyes watched him storm her direction as she pulled down the gate. And the moment he reached the elevator she peered through it at him. She grumbled, "Good luck with your book, Victor fucking Hardway."

He quickly grabbed the gate and stated, "You're not going anywhere!" He jerked the gate up.

She gasped then grabbed the gate to pull it down.

He reached, snatched her by the raised forearms then attempted to pull her from the elevator but she dug her heels into the elevator floor while pulling back.

She ordered, "Let go!" she leaned back with her weight to break his grip, "No need, remember, fuck head?!" she grunted through the tug of war, "I'm leaving!"

He grumbled, "No you're not!" He gave up trying to pull her out, released her arms which caused her to stumble backwards then he lunged into the elevator.

She nearly fell back into the wall of the elevator. She spun around only to face the wall then groaned with no escape, "Shit."

She startled the moment he grabbed her around the waist, immediately she went into a fit and kicked her legs out as her hands pushed on his wrapped arms.

She demanded, "Put me the fuck down!"

He kept her off her feet and carried her out of the elevator kicking.

She yelled through her fit, "What's your fucking problem?!"

He dropped her back onto her heels but swiftly spun her around then pushed her back against the brick divider wall. His hands quickly grabbed her by the wrists then pushed her arms back against the wall to stop her from bolting. He held her arms against the wall as she desperately tried to push back with all her strength.

He demanded, "Calm down!"

She gave him a quick glare then snapped, "Fuck you!"

He firmly repeated, "Calm down!"

She stopped pushing back but her face remained twisted with rage as she heavily breathed through her nose. Her hands formed tight fists as she darted her head to the side and refused to look at him while her eyes were narrowed.

Under breath she couldn't stop from stating an anger induced assumption, "Probably found something better."

His eyes quickly frowned and he snapped, "What?!"

She grumbled, "Nothing."

He quickly demanded, "No, tell me!"

Her head jerked and she looked at him with hate. "Fine!" she snapped then stated exactly what she meant, "You got yourself a better much more appropriate inspiration and you no longer want me!" she turned her eyes away from him again then sarcastically commented, "Probably found her at the damned fedora store or something."

He stared at her confused or perhaps dumbfounded by her assumption. He mumbled, "What the hell?"

She shouted, "Are you deaf?!" she looked at him, saw his perplexed expression, "Did I fucking stutter?!" She slowly and mockingly shook her head answering her questions.

He expression faded into frustration then, releasing one of her wrists, he stepped away from the wall and jerked her with him. He felt her pull back but tugged her with him.

She struggled while she pulled her wrist against his grip as he pulled her through the apartment towards the metal stairs. She demanded, "Let go!"

He answered by giving her another tug which caused her to stumble.

He turned onto the stairs, kept a tight hold of her wrist and ignored her stumbling steps up the stairs. At the top of the stairs he jerked her in direction of the easel. Near the easel he went to a complete stop but pulled her forward passed him. He released her wrist but quickly grabbed her shoulders then held her in place.

Her eyes went wide the moment they looked at the canvas propped atop the easel. Her eyes blinked but what she saw didn't vanish. Her eyes continued to blink.

Before her was the blatant truth why she wasn't needed. He didn't need her to remain posed for a long period of time while bound in red. He didn't need her to fulfill her end of their bargain because his inspiration was complete.

The beginnings of her painted image stared back at her and all her mind could think, it was over. All she could think, she was no longer needed. All she thought, he didn't need her. And she reluctantly determined, she was useless to him now.

She lifted her arms and shifted her shoulders forcing his hands away and said, "Okay, got it." she stepped to the side, "Point taken." She stepped around him, refused to look at him then headed for the stairs.

He lifted the fedora from his head, slapped his hand against his forehead then slid it back over his hair. He turned as he heard her heels clank down the metal stairs.

He moved for the stairs and called her name, "Rosangela."

She froze the moment she stepped off the final stair but didn't turn or look up. No shouting, she simply said, "It's okay." She turned and left the stairs.

His body shifted as he watched her return towards the elevator. His eyes softened though the tension was held between his brows.

A part of him wanted to tell her to stay but that one part of him he had always known forced him to silently watch her disappear.

He set the fedora back atop his head, heard the elevator gate close then the elevator ascend.

He took a deep breath, turned on his bare feet and his eyes looked to the beginnings of a new Victory Hardway creation.

Yet, what tale would be told to compliment the painting that would grace the cover of his next erotic novel? What title would be given?

*****

Author Note:

Is it over? Has this come to an end?

Yeah, I don't think so!