─ · 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ─
I furnished my empty hands with the dustpan and a mini broom, the room already as tidy as I cleaned it this morning, why didn't I just tell Joni that I had already cleaned this room while it was unoccupied? Surely, it just slipped my mind.
I found myself randomly picking places to brush, not that it was making any difference but I felt his presence linger onto me this time. It was thick and it consumed the room, the aura of a deepening darkness had started to cloud my vision into obsidian metal.
A tense silence lay upon the wastelands of his room, the dilatory fidgets Hugh implemented upon his garments travelled through tip toes upon the room, distancing itself from soundwaves that could loosen the atmosphere.
Suddenly he let out an exasperated sigh coated within blankets of annoyance. What now? I thought.
"Turn the bath on, hot." He directed, oblivious to how my panties were getting soaked by the second. Wishing I could turn around to see him removing his coat and feel his breath upon my epidermis.
"Y-yes Mr Drysdale." I leave the dustpan and mini broom as I walk into the aurate bathroom. I twist the knob of the hot water as it slowly starts to pool at the bottom of the white circular bath with mahogany wood that surrounds the dove white tub.
As I walked back my eyes captured polaroids of the lavish bed, with their ivory sheets escorted by creme brulee pillows a-plenty. Ephemeral visions of his frame leaning over, pouring aged whiskey into a half-empty glass.
The carvings of his muscle shone through his torn cream sweater in the places where it was drenched with sweat, like puddles on a broken road. Blood stains like red wine upon its beige fabrics waltzed to meet singular torn threads near the ends of its full sleeved design. Green veins merged with the purple bruises that lay upon his knuckles.
I could only imagine how his scruffy beard would feel brushing against my hardened buds as he suckled on them with those episodic bites that he loved to add.
He hissed suddenly as the ice bounced on his teeth from the umami whiskey. I moved to dust other places in his room. I wanted to ask him what had happened, Hugh prided himself on his pristine superficial image. It's as if Hugh's inner subconscious finally projected itself upon his external photograph. A part of him he always hid.
"Why so formal, darling?" he chuckled suddenly, catching me off guard. My breath hitched but before I could turn to see his frame upon abandoning my intertwining worries about him; I felt his body stick to mine from behind.
"Hu-" I gasped when he suddenly brought his head lower to the back of my ears
"Shhh" he hissed, his hot breath serpentined around the nape of my neck.
Both his hands hastily grabbed my waist from behind and he jerked me closer to his body. The heat from his orphic body warmed me as I grew weaker in his presence, like an enzyme slowly denaturing, dissolving into a pool of liquid ash.
YOU ARE READING
⌜ 芸者 ⌟ •° opulence | h.r.drysdale
Фанфик/ˈɒpjʊl(ə)ns,ˈɒpjʊləns/ ⇒noun great wealth or luxuriousness. "you taste of melancholia and rotting pain" "and you, of an opulence that courses within the broken veins of a decaying dynasty" cover by @plutoqissed