Creature of the Night (A Rocky Horror and Frank N' Furter Fanfiction)

chapter two

I awoke with sun streaming through my window. The room was glowing with some sort of extraterrestrial light, the midday sunlight soaking into the poster plastered walls, and the leather upon the floor. I ruffled my hair, yawning.

I remembered my, guest. With a sigh, and stiff, sore, muscles, I rose from my bed. I hadn't even gone under the blankets, and I was laying across my pile of motorbike porn magazines. My hair clung to my soot covered face and my sweat drenched clothes stuck to my skin in the most gruesome feeling.

I trudged to my living room, rubbing my eyes and feeling absolutely disgusting. I could feel my girdle tighten around my waist absently, the fabric so loose and stretched it was a weight upon me.

He was still laying across the couch, not having moved an inch. He was still breathing, sleeping peacefully after a terribly long night, I can imagine. The rise and fall of his back was rhythmic, his breathing so soft and muffled in the pillows.

I turned to my side, grabbing an old blanket strewn across a chair and I placed it over him. He stirred gently, but other than that, there was no movement. I smiled and moved on.

I just needed a fucking shower. I needed it to be fast, I had no idea when he would wake up, and I needed to be there when he did. I practically ran to the bathroom, started the shower and was under the water in a matter of seconds.

Satisfaction hit me instantly, and a small moan may have even escaped my lips. The warm water was so welcomed, and the feeling of it running down my body was pure ecstasy and I allowed myself to get lost in the feeling. I let the water hit my face and run over my chest and stomach and legs and immediate pleasure washed over me.

I washed quickly, knowing I had limited time. I stepped out into the mask of steam and warmth and wrapped a cigarette scented towel around me. Remind me to never let any one nighters smoke in the bathroom. I believe whoever I hooked up with last week did that.

It didn't really bother me, and, wrapped in my towel, I popped my head out of the bathroom door and tiptoed down to my bedroom.

I shimmied out of the towel and slipped into a white satin and lace slip. My medium length brunette hair was fairly annoying, so I just put it up and left my room quickly. Before I left, I put an Elvis record on in the back for some light music. I could use some relaxing tunes to calm my nerves.

Before slipping into the kitchen, I snuck a look at the man on my couch. I watched his back rise and fall, and with a smile, leaning on the wall. The music rang gently throughout the house, licking the walls and reverberating against the furniture. Stacks of newspapers and records lined the walls and furniture, old roses and crumpled Playbills. Broken cameras lay hidden under furniture pieces, photographs tossed about the room mindlessly. Old posters featuring Ruby Darlin'!, were hidden across the room, some plastered over holes in the crumbling red wallpaper.

A TV stand stood at the far end of the living room, tilted in the corner beside the bay window. Old curtains hung lifeless in the stiff, stale air, gathering dust and creating homes for spiders. The place wasn't dirty, per say, simply cluttered and filled to the brim with nostalgia. The coffee table sat in the middle of the room, separating a long couch from a lounge chair. Blankets and pillows shrewd the seating, an ash tray placed perfectly on the table in the center. My eyes scanned the room as I turned into the kitchen.

I filled a glass with tab water, and opened the icebox and dropped a few pieces of ice in it. I stirred the water in my hand, droplets of condensation already forming along the sides. The kitchen matched the living room, the eat-in breakfast table covered in old mail and magazines and letters from fans.