Sweet Obsession (In Progress)

Chapter Three: Part Two

A/N:

The painting.

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"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here."

                                                -William Shakespeare

I made haste in getting ready, wanting to get over to Paisley's as quick as possible so that I didn't have to be alone. I was afraid, terrifed of what was happening to me. Something within me was changing, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or not. The scarriest part being that it was clear that, whatever that voice meant, it was now begining to invade my waking hours.

Sticking to my regular routine, I  freshened up, threw on some light make up around my eyes and lips, and shimmied into a skin tight, floor length, black dress that hugged my curvasious figure. Searching haphazardly through my appartment, I grabbed some black, four inch pumps that I found lying on my bedroom floor, and a sand colored leather jacket to accesorize. All that was left to do now, was my hair, which I decided to just let down and brush out. I gave a few light tugs to the black hair tie holding it up, and watched as it was let loose.

The inky mass of hair casscaded down, thick and straight, to my elblows. It wasn't really messy, a surprise given my night of sleep, but I brushed it out anyways. When I was finished, I gave myself a good once over. My eyes, a lackluster silver, were frammed by plush, black lashes and rimmed with a thin line of coal colored eyeliner; my pouty lips were covered in a light layer of rose tinted lip blam, which accentuated the dips and curves of my mouth; and my eyebrows bore a cleaned up, yet soft and natural look about them. The only things left undone were consealing the dark circles under my eyes and adding some color to my rather ashen cheeks.

I pulled out my concealer, foundation, and blush, my hands moving in deft, swift motions until I was done; the end product that was staring back at me in the mirror, absolutley flawless. Now to grab Zeus, I thought as I went in search of the fluffy creature.

I found him brushing up against the door, tail floating up slowly, and eyes closed as a purr erupted from his small body. "Come on, Zeus. Time to go play with Baby," I cooed in a high pitched voice that was reserved specifically for him. Scooping him up into my arms as he let out a small meow, I opened the door, before turning back to grab my forgotten bright red purse off of the small table in my - recently redecorated - kitchen, courtsey Paisley. Once I had it slung over my arm, I rushed out of the appartment like it was one fire, pausing outside only to lock it, and then turning and waltzing straight into appartment number 1662. 

"Stop it. You're early? Rosaline Asheford is actually early to something?!" Paisley marveled, bounding into the room with her hair half braided, one eye done up in an elaborate rendition of the classic cat eye look, and a huge surprise-filled smile spread across her face. 

I laughed at her, even if she was right, and placed Zeus on the ground, watching as he scurried off to find Baby, Paisley's black, three year old cat. He happened to hate everyone but Paisley, Zeus, and sometimes me. Ironic given his name, but she had only chosen that because her dad had insisted that she should settle down and give him grandbabies. He really was something... I mean, she was nineteen for goodness sake! His reaction to Baby was something I wish I had seen, but nonetheless, he dropped the subject of marraige and childeren, and has hardly bothered Paisley since, aside from an occational call here and there.

"Black on black? I thought you decided to start adding a healthy amount of color to your wardrobe," I chasted, taking in her attire of a black chiffon floor length dress, black leather jacket, and black heels. It was a ritual of ours to dress up on each other's birthdays, the jackets were just to fend off the bite of the cold November air.

"I couldn't find my jean jacket," she explained, guilt evident on her face. 

"I'm sure," I joked with a wink before plopping down on her white couch, effectively sending the pink and turquoise pillows that littered the small sectional to the floor. "Go finish up. I want to hit BK before it gets dark."

At this, Paisley scoffed. "I hope that was a joke! I know you. We always go to Charlie's on your birthday. They are the only place around that offers oganic chicken and avacado sandwhiches, and you know how crazy you get if it isn't organic. You start yelling at the manag-"

"I was kidding!" I cut her off with a tiny giggle, lest she continue her endless ranting.

She just gives me a knowing smile, repling, "Charlie's it is then," before disapearing in the direction of her bathroom to finish and perfect her ensemble. 

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When we emmerged from the taxi, several blocks away from our Bourbon Street appartment building, I was starting to feel better about the idea of coming out after being house bound all week. The fresh air, though fridged and thin, felt good against my heated skin, and seemed to chase away all of thoughts that lingered on the precipice of my subconsious.

Paisley and I had asked to be dropped at the corner of the street so that we could walk the length, stopping to shop if we saw something in a window that we liked. It wasn't until we were almost directly across from Charlie's Diner, that I haulted, eyes trained on a sign a little ways down from us.

"Paisley, you go on ahead. I think I'm going to check out that little book store just there. Who knows, maybe I'll find a rare first edition. I'll meet you at Charlie's in a few?" I asked, sparing her a quick glance before heading off towards the new shop.

"Yeah, sure! I'll go order our food," she shouted after me cheerfully. 

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Upon first entering the small shop the familiar smell of paper and ink wafted over me, bringing forth a feeling of comfort which settled deep within me. An elderly man stepped out from behing the counter to greet me and ask me if there was anything I needed help finding, before resuming his place once again.

I began to move slowly through the overflowing bookshelves, trying to take in every detail of the spines that surrounded me, new and faded alike. I picked up a few books as I went, stacking them neatly in my arms. When it became a balancing act, the pile growing percariously high and dangerously heavy, I meandered toward the front of the shop to complete my purchase.

One particularly thick book fell to the ground halfway to the counter with loud a thud, causing me to utter a few curse words under my breath. When I had placed the bulk of the pile before the elderly man, whose eyes nearly bugged out at the sight before him, I hurried back to grab the other book. 

It wasn't until I was exiting the book shop that I began to regret such a large purchase. Trying to balance on stilettos and carry two huge bags was proving to be a challenge. That's when Paisley popped up in front of me, a small take-out bag from Charlie's in her hands, along with another bag being hugged under one arm.

"Oh my fudge cake, you have to see this painting that I got!" she exclaimed, beaming at me as she pulled a canvas from her bag, turning towards me to asses. Curiousity getting the better of me, I looked down at it.

Smoldering heat engluffed my body the second my eyes locked on the black and white image of a whispy, male figure sitting in a chair as if relaxed. But the thing was, this was no man. This was a demons soul, dark and dead, yet able to make a girl like Paisley think that it was the coolest thing since sliced bread. It was alluringly dangerous, oddly familiar, and I wanted nothing more than for Paisley to, "Return it." 

I hadn't realize that I had blurted the words until they were already out. I went to apologize, to explain, but Paisley just retorted with a stubborn, "No way! It's not for me anyways, I got it for you. I think it would look great in your bedroom."

I opened my mouth to tell her just how awful an idea that was, not that I wasn't grateful, when I began staggering; losing my ablility to stand up at an alarming rate and for unknown reasons. "Rosaline? You don't look so hot. Are you okay?" came the worried, far away voice of Paisley. I tried to nod, but it just served to make me more dizzy. 

The last thing that I saw before the darkness embraced me, was a cloaked figure - standing across the way - a smirk playing on their lips. Somehow I knew that this wasn't the last time I would see them. Somehow I knew that I was being watched.