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A Delicious Madness
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2020-10-31 01:31:51Her hat shaded her eyes, but she was well aware of her surroundings. There was a world-renowned artist work on display. It brought with it many different personalities. Art students appeared, some in questionable attire as if in rebellion to requirements required by aristocrats. A few kept their chants to themselves as they observed the controversial artwork. The guards grew eerie of the different faces, some painted as obscure as the artworks. She sat, undaunted by the parade around her. She crossed her legs and remained as calm as a day after a thunderstorm.
"Lovely isn't it?"
She looked up to notice a man in a tailored suit, the hat shading his eyes. He stood in front of her, not facing her but facing the artwork. She stood, almost to size him up. As she tilted her hat, so did he. He towered over her, broad shoulders and chiselled features. She looked back to the artwork, taking off her hat. Her red hair cascaded down the side of her neck like a river, that seemed to captivate the man. She could hear him swallowing his breath.
"The artwork is lovely, but not my style."
His eyebrow twitched and his lip curled in the corner. "And what's your style?"
She shrugged, being observed ever so delicately. He wished he could touch the hair, let it run between his fingers. The idea made him sick with excitement. The scent of her hair captured him and draw him irresistibly to it. He slowly approached her, closer and closer, without thinking he had a lock of her hair. She felt something strange as he approached, overcome with a long disregarded fear she took a step back. He did not let go, he watched as it stretched, glistening richly against his finger. He looked at her, her freckled face, red lips and sparkling eyes. He smiled a sincere smile that made him vulnerable.
"What a lovely colour." He managed to say.
Still holding the strand as gently as to make no more noise than a spider attaching its thread. She was afraid but more intrigued than fearful. She stepped closer to him, cautiously. The closer she stood the more his heart raced. The intangible desire arose within him in a sickening speed. He wanted to grab it, to force her mouth open and watch as her red lips froze in an expression that enthralled him. He didn't move, in fear of losing her. She placed her hand on top of his and looked up at him with moonlit eyes during the day. She tried her best to shade her emotion, to cause her rustling in her chest to still. When she looked up at him it was as if she looked into a hollow crevice of an eye, a black hole with nothing left but contempt for the living.
As brave as she was, she coughed her voice into command and reassured her confidence.
"Who are you?"
He was stunned by everything that she was. A colour made human. "I am but a madman, hoping love is to be my redemption."
She caressed his cheek, hearing the approval in his chest. She smiled. "Love is merely a madness, and I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do."
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