Love's Inferno

Chapter 19 - An Uncertain Option Explored

Dante 

I had wondered once what she had worn to bed if she favoured the kinds of silks I had imagined. Suffice to say I was not disappointed but as per usual, I was surprised. When I bedded most woman, shared a room with them, there was always a sure-fire display of passion, desire, want and hunger represented clearly by their underwear. When Shiloh exited the bathroom I couldn't help but smile at her choice of nightwear, the closest thing I could liken it to would be a cotton sleep dress that someone's grandmother would enjoy. It was perhaps the most unsexy nightwear I had ever seen and once more obscured most of her body from me. Her arms were bare and that was about it, even her hair was covered. I wondered just how much it would take to seduce her because somehow, even in that, she was the most sensual person I had ever seen before bed. My ego couldn't help but feel slighted by the stark difference immediately acknowledging her unwillingness to try and impress me. But my mind? Aflame with the role reversal, the fact that I needed to impress her. I needed to perform for her, ignite in her the desire I felt vibrate within me. She was in her home, one she didn't want me in, she deserved to be comfortable. Her refusal to abandon her comfort was a comfort in itself to me - this night hadn't broken her, not even close. 

I listened, folded uncomfortably on her too-short couch, to her rustle away in the dark. The entire room had been perfumed with different scents that I couldn't make out, her beautiful face barren and lotioned within an inch of its life. I loved the routine, the privilege of watching her nighttime routine but was disappointed that I was so far away from it. Eyeing the room, now beginning to be lit by daybreak, I noticed what looked like an oversized bean bag and decided to move it and myself closer to her. I picked up the surprisingly heavy marshmallow and moved it next to her bed an hour later, pained by the unyielding couch and distance between us. When I entered her room, I planted the thing next to her bed quietly - not wanting to disrupt her peaceful breathing. I watched as she kicked a foot out from beneath the blanket only to shiver ten minutes later. Moving to shift her comforter back onto her, my fingers were met with cool silk, I thumbed the material and realised with muffled laughter that she did have other sleepwear - she just didn't want me to see it. It was delicate and lacy and probably revealing. As I was about to lift it she stirred which is when I felt like a creep, holding her clothes in the dark. I set it down, swiftly, and continued my mission moving towards the comforter when my eyes caught on something else that made my heart ache.

Trailing up the side of her leg was the nastiest, deep scar. It was neatly stitched, without any sign of keloids and looked to be old, worn and fading but I knew the kind of pain that must've accompanied it. I intimately knew the kind of violence which would have taken place for a scar like that to form. What I didn't know was how she got it, how far it crawled up her body and if that was why she was always so covered. I covered her in quiet contemplation and closed my eyes for a moment on the beanbag only of her foot to peak out the blanket again. Her foot was followed by her arm, her hand which almost knocked me in the face. I reached for her hand, warmed by the soft heat and fell into a deep sleep. 

The sun, and the sound of quiet rustling is what woke me. I was immediately aware of the fact that I was alone - my hand unheld. Her clothes were folded, her scent gone and I began to panic that she was going to run. Marching towards the hallway, making a concerted effort not to knock over her plants is where I found her...well a new version of her. Her plum hair was hidden covered by a short, beautiful caramel blonde bob that I'd never seen before. She didn't have any makeup on and was dressed as if she was going to work out. Kind of. Her clothes are normally decorative, distinctive and modern. Now? She had on sneakers that I was surprised she owned, leggings and a grey hoodie. It was her but a version I had never seen, one that would be forgettable if she wasn't so beautiful. One that could easily get lost in a crowd. She was moving quickly and silently having decanted her purse, pocketing only her keys and phone.