Crumbling Visage

Scent

The sound of running water and faint laughter wrought the air with everything pleasant. The scent of a dozen sweet scented flowers, the bees humming lazily, the wisps of light pouring into the bathroom and the two laughing girls.

Florence got dressed while swatting the other girl's hand good-naturedly. Her cold fingers were on Florence's chest-caressing and shifting lower.

"You're cold!" Florence protested. The other girl just smiled and the motion continued. "I'd love to do this all day but I have to go to work. Goodbye." Florence pecked her lips briefly before bustling off.

"Don't be late!" a distant voice called out. Florence just smiled.

"Hello, Florence, how's things with Myra?" the young brunette gazed at Florence expectantly.

"Great, as usual." Florence gave her a brief smile. The brunette's face fell and she just mumbled a half-hearted 'good' before walking away.

"You know" Philip sat down at her table, "It's obvious she likes you."

Florence hummed an exasperated, "Yeah?" before sipping on her coffee. The coffee felt soothing against her tongue-lingering with a faint and reminiscent sweetness; its smell was intoxicating and seemed to be charging her. But it faded quickly and a poisonous, sickly sweetness sat on her tongue where the coffee had been moments before.

"Yeah" repeated Philip slowly and cautiously, "And you should probably consider your options." He added with a wink.

"Excuse me?" Florence's eyes narrowed, "I have a girlfriend, Philip. And it's absolutely pathetic to cheat. And I love Myra, might I add." She huffed as though challenging him to contradict.

Philip raised his hands in surrender, "Look" he said composing himself, "Myra is not...not...right for you. There are other people out there and...it's just..." he trailed off.

"Myra is...different and I love her, regardless. And, oh, we're going to be engaged in a couple of weeks." Florence gave him a challenging smile.

Philip just shook his head with a sad smile.

"I am home."

Florence wrapped her arms around the quiet, smiling girl waiting for her by the balcony.

"I want to be engaged tomorrow." Myra's voice was soft and placating.

"But-"

"A quiet thing. Tomorrow. Be ready at noon. I don't want to delay this."

"Myra, I really-"

"Invite a few people if you want, noon tomorrow."

With that Myra stepped into the bathroom, the rushing of water drowning out any sighs of pain.

"You're what now!" Philip's voice was abundant with shock and disbelief.

"Getting engaged. Two hours; be there please. I know it's a bit last moment and rushed but it's what Myra wants and I just thought Better sooner than later."

"She didn't give you a choice, did she?"

"Well, but-"

"Yes or no."

"No, but I really-"

"You have two hours to think things over. She is not right for you."

"You haven't even met her!"

"I know enough from what you've told me; though, admittedly I am curious."

"Just be there." Florence strode off.

"Jane!" Florence raced up to the brunette, "Hello"

The brunette's face relaxed and her voice became chirpy and flirtatious, "Yes?" she smirked.

"Well, I know it's sort of last minute and rushed but-"

"Coffee shop? At two works for me, what about you?" the brunette chirped on.

"At noon." Florence paused, then as though hit with a sudden realization she chuckled, "Oh no, no, no." She paused, "Myra and I are getting engaged at noon. My place. I was hoping you could make it."

Jane's eyes narrowed and her eyebrows rose up, almost comically. But she just gave a short laugh and said, "Alright. I'll be there. I am curious about this 'Myra' girl. She must be someone exquisite if you love her so much."

"She's great." Beamed Florence.

Florence was home at eleven and she crept to the bedroom, humming softly.

The first sign that something was wrong was the faint smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen.

Florence crept up to the kitchen; Myra never drank coffee-she was repulsed by it.

Steaming expanses of coffee lay across the kitchen slab, the floor, the sink yet Myra was nowhere nearby.

"Myra?" Florence's voice sounded surreal even to herself. There was a note of hysteria. The scent of coffee was blurring out any other thought. But above that smell she could feel another faint scent-vanilla and mint.

Creeping into the bathroom, she found Myra sitting slumped, her back to Florence. The girl was covered from head to toe with coffee and yet a distinct smell of vanilla and mint could be sensed.

Florence's hands were trembling as she placed them on Myra's shoulder. The other girl clasped the hands on her shoulder with her own slender, cold fingers.

"M-Myra?"

The girl's shoulders seemed to be shaking with sobs. Florence leaned in and kissed the sobbing girl softly on the forehead. They sat there, unmoving and unknowing and at some point, Florence had drifted off and succumbed to sleep-amidst the sweet and intoxicating scents.

Loud footsteps.

Florence sat up in panic, her hands still cold from where Myra had clasped it. She hadn't locked the door; and it was almost certainly time to be engaged.

"Are you alright?" Jane was inching closer, still not close enough to see the mess.

When she did however, a guttural scream rang out.

Florence lay in a pool of coffee and blood and her hands grasped a cold metal bar. The metal bar had something etched on it, visible on closer inspection:

Myra- Love knows not the bounds of life.

And if you thought of it hard enough, the faint smell of vanilla and mint was perceptible in the air- the scent of Myra.