That wasn't to say he couldn't show all sorts of emotions (he had practiced those over the years, too), it was just that he didn't feel them the way he knew other people did. There was joy and ecstasy — he felt those emotions whenever he saw the flickering light of life leave a woman's eyes, his smiling face the last image she carried with her to the great beyond. He just didn't feel your typical emotions for mundane things like learning he was about to be a father or seeing his son take those tenuous steps on his own for the first time.
There was contempt, boredom, disgust, and loathing — he experienced those emotions in droves. He often thought of himself as a bored middle-aged man who had nothing but contempt and disgust for those around him, and absolutely took pleasure in loathing most people he came in contact with, all the while perfecting his smile and pretending to laugh at their inane stories, shitty humour, and generally boring lives.
And then there were those emotions he understood and experienced the same way others did — well, maybe not exactly the same way. He knew distraction and anticipation, but those were tied to his encounters as well. The anticipation of wrapping his hands around a delicate throat, pulse beating frantically and distracting him to the very edge of his control. And pensiveness. Such an underrated emotion, but absolutely one of his favourites. Choosing a companion for his trysts required careful consideration and thoughtful contemplation. Once their time together was complete, the life drained of her eyes, her body soiled and perfumed from the release of all sorts of bodily fluids, he often indulged in reflection of his actions, reliving each glorious moment, dissecting his actions, improving his skills for the next time the craving came upon him.
Granted, there were a few emotions he struggled with, but they didn't have much of an impact on his life, so he gave them little to no thought. There was fear and terror — he didn't feel those ones himself, but certainly found joy watching others experience them. There was also sadness, grief, and remorse — he didn't feel any of those either, but again took immense pleasure when others felt them (Constance in particular). Don reasoned that if she and the others were so kind as to share those emotions with him then they were as good as felt by him.
And of course, there was love. Love was found underneath each of these emotions and Don prided himself on his ability to feel love at the core of each and every one of these feelings. He experienced a profound connection to each of the women he was intimate with over the years, and the dedication and commitment to their bodies and the very essence of their beings could only be described as love. How could experiencing the ecstasy of their last moments, cherishing their last gasp, or holding onto their memory as no other could year over year be anything but?
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Out on a Limb
Misterio / Suspenso(COMPLETED) (PEAKED AT #1 ON THE HOT LIST THRILLER-FICTION!) Donald Fancy is athletic, good looking, a devoted family man and dutiful lackey at his father-in-law's hugely successful company, but he's also so much more... With a penchant for details...
