fuyu no miko here
i am a krusnik; i suck the blood of vampires
enter my lair at your own risk
Friday, September 29, 2006
mirror scene seatwork ko sa cw10. ha! 40 minutes ko lang ginawa yan! sabagay maikli lang sya. haha. nagyayabang na naman ako. hehe. sori.
a little bit mature compared to the things i have written before.
and no, this is not--i repeat, NOT!!!--a "thinly veiled" (a comment by my teacher when she returned our works) part of my life. you'll see...
enjoy reading!
______________________________ no permanent title yet. suggestions are most welcome.
I stopped before the ornately carved narra door, waiting for him. Wondering why I consented to this. A tiny sane part of my wine-muddled brain continued to haunt me. Do you really have to do this to prove that you love him? Are you really sure about this? Do...the incessant flow of questions was broken by his baritone voice saying "Here we are" as he opened the heavy door and, gently taking my elbow, ushered me inside.
The room was beautiful, I had to admit. He had prepared for this, I thought. The dominant color was red, ruby red. Love, I immediately thought. And passion. Sensuality. The ambience was romantic, and the faint fragrance of the red rose petals scattered on the bed enhanced the sensual atmosphere. The bed. The enormity of my decision struck me again. The large bed, designed for lovers, dominated the room. I took my eyes away from it and noticed the mirror above the vanity table directly across the room. Oval-shaped, framed by wood-carved cupids and hearts. I could see my face on the surface. Pale. Nervous. Frightened. I could see him standing behind me, his back resting on the door, his arms loosely crossed over his chest. Handsome. Gorgeous. Sexy. Our gazes met on the mirror, his smoldering, mine unsure.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "You can still..." There was an underlying challenge to his words. A demand, not a question. And we both knew that I couldn't back down. Not now. The door was locked, and there he was, big and strong and sure to overpower me. And there's no one else on this side of the world but the two of us. I shuddered.
"Are you cold?" he walked towards me. I could feel heat from his body. I trembled again, for an entirely different reason. "I could take that cold away." His voice had dropped to a husky whisper. He took my shoulders and turned me towards him. One hand came up to my chin and made me look up at him. He's so big. So masculine, so virile. My eyes widened as I saw his eyes: dark and burning with passion and need. I couldn't look straight at him. My eyes fell, and they again saw the mirror. I steadily gazed at it. I saw the bed. I saw straining and bucking, heard moaning and groaning. I shuddered, strongly this time.
"Are you sure?" his lips brushed over my forehead. Hot. I felt it down to my toes. A hint of what I would feel later, and more.
Am I sure? I asked myself. I could see and hear people from the mirror.
My friends. My liberated friends. "What? You're still a virgin?" "No one is pure nowadays, Angel!" "You need a man right now. You should feel what its like. It’s wonderful." "Your boyfriend’s going to leave you if you don’t do it with him."
I saw my poor unmarried sister and her two kids, starving. I saw my cousin, also unmarried, dying of AIDS. I remembered her telling me she got it from one of her "escapades". I frowned at her then, admonishing her, but secretly rejoicing that I had been wise not to indulge in unprotected sex. In sex.
I could still hear my friends talking about what they had done with their boyfriends on secret, hidden, sometimes public, places. I had pretended to be indifferent, but inside the hidden longing to experience what they often gossiped about increased.
I saw my boyfriend, his body over and around a whore's soiled one. I couldn't, I could. I shouldn't. I should.
"Yes." My whisper was barely audible, and I nodded slightly against his chest. I saw him, heard him, felt his chest expand in a sigh. I saw his lips move to my cheek, ears, neck. I felt warmth. Heat. Passion. Lust.
I saw his tanned hand move towards my bodice. I saw his long fingers reach the topmost button of my white cotton blouse. Stark contrast. Darkness invading whiteness. Conquering.
They undid it easily, then moved to the next one. Undid it. Then the next. And the next. As his fingers moved to the front of my chest, he drew in a sharp breath. I saw his fingers move. Felt the lightest of caresses. I felt my breasts swell, my nipples harden. I gasped at the new sensation. Is this wrong? I asked myself.
He continued unbuttoning my blouse. In a few seconds, I saw my torso, naked save for a wisp of lace. He moved my long straight hair aside, then reached to unhook the garment. I stopped him. He looked at me, then kissed me long. Hard. Passionately. As he moved his arms to embrace me, I looked again at the mirror, and saw the slow descent of a pearly tear to his arm as he drew me down on the bed.
_____________________________
yeah?
again, comments/suggestions/lavish praises/deprecating remarks are most welcome.
alam nyo grade ko dyan? 1.25! yeah!
plus, iwoworkshop pa sya sa klase. meaning, it's one of the three best works...
oh yeahh...
allow me to wallow in my literary pride and vanity for a while...
dyan lang kasi ako magaling eh...
oh no!!!
hay.
don't ask me how i knew, erm, certain details in this article. i just know.
hope you liked it though. =)
in the snow, traced by blood...9/29/2006 08:57:00 PM
wants:
a set of faber-castell 48 classic colour pencils or crayola 64 colors
endless supply of c1 and c3 pilot gtec pens
solitude and silence, power and prestige
current loves:
manga: vampire knight, shinshi doumei cross, ludwig kakumei
anime: cardcaptor sakura, vampire knight, kiniro no corda~primo passo
edibles: fishball, palabok, iced tea, coke zero
characters: kaname kuran, zero kiryu, eriol hiiragizawa, laures
delinquent student
certified instant coffee gourmand
caffeine dependent
sleep monster
no fashion sense