Scene: Waking up at His place
When I get pulled out of my sleep the morning sun is seeping in through the window, leaving warm streaks of orange light on the wall just above me, blinding me as I lift my head and gather my surroundings. I'm alone - Guess he woke up early. As I sit up, my brain feels like it's lagging behind my every move. I can't remember the last time I woke up this slumped. While I slip up my panties, I notice that all of his clothes are gone - did he leave? To groggy to feel really annoyed by the notion, I put on my top and stagger out of the room, starting to notice a lot of antique trinkets in display cases, clashing with his otherwise modern luxury "feng shui" - Mementos maybe.
I enter the large living area, tracing my fingers on the marble wall for a bit, before moving towards the kitchen island. Black granite with golden streaks in it - just like the walls. I can't begin to fathom how expensive any of this is. In the dead of the night, I didn't take in the place at all. Everything was dark, and I was too occupied being all over him. Seeing this place in natural light, I really notice how big the room is. A kitchen with an Island in one end and the other - a slightly lowered area with elegant couches. All walls have the same look of black marble, the floors are dark wood panels, but with creamy white carpets and furniture for contrast. Even the way the sunlight falls into the feels designed - organized.
I boil some water, after I've found some tea rumaging through the very neatly organized drawers. When the tea is ready, I stroll around the large living space. There are several glass displays scattered about with otherworldly curiousities, and on one wall in the couch section, some historical weapons are neatly mounted on the wall - a shield as a centerpiece surounded by swords, an axe, some kind of clubs, spears and some others I don't know what are. Though they look polished, some still show marks of wear and tear - actual historical weapons used in battle. Could some of these be family heirlooms, or is he just a collector? He couldn't possibly be old enough to have been around for these, right?
The entire decadency of this place - It feels more like something from a magazine than an actual home. Maybe this guy is more detached than I realized. Probably already back at his office, being a serious business man. I wonder if I was his moment of respite in a stressful life, or if I am just a trophy like all these other trinkets, and suddently the place starts to feel cold. Small. Like the stone walls are encroaching on me, ready to put me in a small glass display too. I can't stay here anymore
After a quick return to the bedroom for my clothes, I'm stopped on the way to the front door by the sound of a key unlocking it. Ugh, just when I was hoping to slip out quietly. To my surprise it's not him, but some girl. Fuck. We both freeze for a moment. She's a changeling - even same warm cinnamon tone skin as me. Some years younger. Somewhere between her high heels, tight skirt and button-up skirt, I gather that she must be his secretary - or I hope she is. I don't recognize her, but we're enough changelings in the community not to keep track of everybody. The silence is getting really awkward. She looks even more nervous than I must be.
"I-uhh, I was just leaving", I manage to stutter. Just let me get out of here!
"Yes - Me to!" she reply before correcting herself awkwardly. "Or, uhm - documents!"
She walk past me with her head tilted down. Her bangs not hiding her gazing at me as well as she thinks, and I take my cue and head out as fast as I can without running. Closing the door behind me, the wind joins in to slam the door harder than intended, and I hope it didn't sound too demonstrative inside. I pause for a second. 'Take a deep breath, you just had some fun, some well earned break from life - nothing to be ashamed off', I tell myself.
I enter the large living area, tracing my fingers on the marble wall for a bit, before moving towards the kitchen island. Black granite with golden streaks in it - just like the walls. I can't begin to fathom how expensive any of this is. In the dead of the night, I didn't take in the place at all. Everything was dark, and I was too occupied being all over him. Seeing this place in natural light, I really notice how big the room is. A kitchen with an Island in one end and the other - a slightly lowered area with elegant couches. All walls have the same look of black marble, the floors are dark wood panels, but with creamy white carpets and furniture for contrast. Even the way the sunlight falls into the feels designed - organized.
I boil some water, after I've found some tea rumaging through the very neatly organized drawers. When the tea is ready, I stroll around the large living space. There are several glass displays scattered about with otherworldly curiousities, and on one wall in the couch section, some historical weapons are neatly mounted on the wall - a shield as a centerpiece surounded by swords, an axe, some kind of clubs, spears and some others I don't know what are. Though they look polished, some still show marks of wear and tear - actual historical weapons used in battle. Could some of these be family heirlooms, or is he just a collector? He couldn't possibly be old enough to have been around for these, right?
The entire decadency of this place - It feels more like something from a magazine than an actual home. Maybe this guy is more detached than I realized. Probably already back at his office, being a serious business man. I wonder if I was his moment of respite in a stressful life, or if I am just a trophy like all these other trinkets, and suddently the place starts to feel cold. Small. Like the stone walls are encroaching on me, ready to put me in a small glass display too. I can't stay here anymore
After a quick return to the bedroom for my clothes, I'm stopped on the way to the front door by the sound of a key unlocking it. Ugh, just when I was hoping to slip out quietly. To my surprise it's not him, but some girl. Fuck. We both freeze for a moment. She's a changeling - even same warm cinnamon tone skin as me. Some years younger. Somewhere between her high heels, tight skirt and button-up skirt, I gather that she must be his secretary - or I hope she is. I don't recognize her, but we're enough changelings in the community not to keep track of everybody. The silence is getting really awkward. She looks even more nervous than I must be.
"I-uhh, I was just leaving", I manage to stutter. Just let me get out of here!
"Yes - Me to!" she reply before correcting herself awkwardly. "Or, uhm - documents!"
She walk past me with her head tilted down. Her bangs not hiding her gazing at me as well as she thinks, and I take my cue and head out as fast as I can without running. Closing the door behind me, the wind joins in to slam the door harder than intended, and I hope it didn't sound too demonstrative inside. I pause for a second. 'Take a deep breath, you just had some fun, some well earned break from life - nothing to be ashamed off', I tell myself.
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