VampiricTouch
Cold Selfish Bitch
- Joined
- Dec 18, 2008
- Posts
- 3,947
She stood in her sanctuary. The words of her god echoing in the expanse that was her.
Melanie, it is time for you to change again...
As those commands resonated, the wind picked up in the space around her. A whirlwind of change that swept all traces of her ties with Gordon away. Leaving behind only the wistful want, a single frame of her doctor on a table. They were doctor and patient once more.
She stepped forward. Leaving behind a shell, a frozen statue of herself in the moment of time before. Glancing back, she caught sight of it before it disappeared, a rippling in the scenery concealing, consuming what was before.
The Melanie left behind was no doubt a woman, assure of her own femininity. Her stance she held was confident. The lift of her chin suggested even a touch arrogance.
Leave this place and return to where you came from.
Melanie started from her trance. It took a moment for the confusion to fade as she blinked once, twice, her mind a touch slower at following the good Doctor’s words.
...I think I can say, as safely as one can in this line of medicine, that you're cured.
“Thank you doctor. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.” She smiled. Finally remembering that she was here for her follow up. A tinge of sadness touched the smile. After all, they were doctor and patient. He was her psychiatrist, she was his client. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Her glee was reminiscent of her college days. It had been a long time since Melanie had seen the bubbly excitement in her best friend, and it was contagious.
He watched her from the bar. After prowling the night club, he returned back to his spot to watch her. The haze of his cigarette shimmered blue then orange as the strobe lights lit the dance floor. Bodies moved, and lights flashed over satin, sequins, sweat, skin.
He saw only her.
The club was packed. Night life in Vegas was always a whirlwind of activity, but somehow, she’d been singled out for him. One face out of the bodies that moved to the music. The pretty little thing in red. The dolled up hair, the perfect curls, the heels, the touch of makeup that highlighted her lips and eyes... She was beautiful.
The friend that accompanied her was risque, familiar with the dance floor. But she, with her hesitant smile and the unbalanced sway, she was new. When she shook her head a third time to refuse another’s advances, it was perhaps time to make a move.
He slipped the DJ something for a song, and slowly made his way through the crowd towards her. The familiar beat kicked in just as his hand touched her shoulder. It was chaste. Just enough to catch her attention and offer her a smile. He danced. Not strutting, not at her, not flagrant, but with her. He made no effort to touch her, merely enjoying the dance floor with her and letting the rhythm drive their motion.
Her friend smiled, taking a step back to let their chemistry build. It was a good thing to let Melanie cut loose from the rules in her life.
She moved, the motion hesitant as she tested the water of dance with a stranger that seemed so attuned to her. Her brown eyes lifted to meet his blue ones, and he held her gaze captive. The sway of bodies that were so close suddenly made the space between them unbearable. Small steps brought her closer. Until her fingertips brushed the gray button up he wore. Fingers touched as she spun on the floor. The dizzying sway of bodies swirled in an array of color, of which all she saw was him.
The song ended too soon.
“My name’s Michael.” He stepped close to murmur just into her ear as the next rhythm picked up.
She glanced up at the stranger with a moments hesitation before finally accepting the offered hand and letting him lead her away from the floor to a table. “Melanie.”
The lights, the risk of taking a chance with a complete stranger, the rush of adrenaline as she surrendered her control to him...
Melanie, it is time for you to change again...
As those commands resonated, the wind picked up in the space around her. A whirlwind of change that swept all traces of her ties with Gordon away. Leaving behind only the wistful want, a single frame of her doctor on a table. They were doctor and patient once more.
She stepped forward. Leaving behind a shell, a frozen statue of herself in the moment of time before. Glancing back, she caught sight of it before it disappeared, a rippling in the scenery concealing, consuming what was before.
The Melanie left behind was no doubt a woman, assure of her own femininity. Her stance she held was confident. The lift of her chin suggested even a touch arrogance.
Leave this place and return to where you came from.
Melanie started from her trance. It took a moment for the confusion to fade as she blinked once, twice, her mind a touch slower at following the good Doctor’s words.
...I think I can say, as safely as one can in this line of medicine, that you're cured.
“Thank you doctor. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.” She smiled. Finally remembering that she was here for her follow up. A tinge of sadness touched the smile. After all, they were doctor and patient. He was her psychiatrist, she was his client. Nothing more. Nothing less.
~~~~~|||||~~~~~
“We. Are going to Vegas!” Sandra was ecstatic. It’d been too long since her last vacation, and she needed it. “Girls night out! WE are going to have a BLAST!”
Her glee was reminiscent of her college days. It had been a long time since Melanie had seen the bubbly excitement in her best friend, and it was contagious.
~~~~~|||||~~~~~
He watched her from the bar. After prowling the night club, he returned back to his spot to watch her. The haze of his cigarette shimmered blue then orange as the strobe lights lit the dance floor. Bodies moved, and lights flashed over satin, sequins, sweat, skin.
He saw only her.
The club was packed. Night life in Vegas was always a whirlwind of activity, but somehow, she’d been singled out for him. One face out of the bodies that moved to the music. The pretty little thing in red. The dolled up hair, the perfect curls, the heels, the touch of makeup that highlighted her lips and eyes... She was beautiful.
The friend that accompanied her was risque, familiar with the dance floor. But she, with her hesitant smile and the unbalanced sway, she was new. When she shook her head a third time to refuse another’s advances, it was perhaps time to make a move.
He slipped the DJ something for a song, and slowly made his way through the crowd towards her. The familiar beat kicked in just as his hand touched her shoulder. It was chaste. Just enough to catch her attention and offer her a smile. He danced. Not strutting, not at her, not flagrant, but with her. He made no effort to touch her, merely enjoying the dance floor with her and letting the rhythm drive their motion.
Her friend smiled, taking a step back to let their chemistry build. It was a good thing to let Melanie cut loose from the rules in her life.
She moved, the motion hesitant as she tested the water of dance with a stranger that seemed so attuned to her. Her brown eyes lifted to meet his blue ones, and he held her gaze captive. The sway of bodies that were so close suddenly made the space between them unbearable. Small steps brought her closer. Until her fingertips brushed the gray button up he wore. Fingers touched as she spun on the floor. The dizzying sway of bodies swirled in an array of color, of which all she saw was him.
The song ended too soon.
“My name’s Michael.” He stepped close to murmur just into her ear as the next rhythm picked up.
She glanced up at the stranger with a moments hesitation before finally accepting the offered hand and letting him lead her away from the floor to a table. “Melanie.”
The lights, the risk of taking a chance with a complete stranger, the rush of adrenaline as she surrendered her control to him...
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