I’ve reached my page limit :U

Firsts

 “Listen, you.  I’ve had my eyes on this fatty for an entire week. There’s no way I’m giving him up or taking your sloppy seconds again!”, Zoey towered over Andreas akimbo.

“You can stay or go.  I don’t mind an audience, just don’t interrupt me” Andreas glared daggers at Zoey before waving his hand in an ushering gesture.

 “Why are you so sloppy?”, Zoey shot her eyes in both directions of the dappled breezeway.  Like a python releasing its choke hold on its victim, Andreas slithered his hands from the pulse of the stranger’s neck.  Blood dripped from the stranger’s temple.  Andreas’ knuckles still stung from the earlier punch.

“Calm down…  Is this your first time?”, Andreas cocked an eyebrow at Zoey.  As he pushed himself off of his knees with the palms of his light olive hands, scintillating hazel eyes were met with soul piercing dark brown eyes.  Zoey’s pupils dilated like a fawn, paralyzed by the headlights of an oncoming car.  She batted her long eyelashes thrice and shook her head as she looked to the side of Andreas’ chiseled face.  Recomposing herself, Zoey cleared her throat and repositioned her eyes on his hazel ones.  Zoey stabbed her perfectly French tipped index finger into Andreas’ vested chest and exclaimed with full sass, “Excuse me, I’ve popped that cherry a long time ago!”

“Ow…” Andreas hid behind his mock tone.  Gliding his hand under the silk of his rayon polyester vest, he rubbed the dirty blondes of his chest in small circular motions where her offending manicured nail had just pierced him a second ago.  It hurt his pride knowing that this little Asian girl, of all people, had this much power over him.

“Can’t you just get this done with as quick and clean as possible? You’re such a slob!”, Zoey rolled her eyes at him.  The look of pain on Andreas’ face was quickly replaced by anger.  The fine hairs on his body rose with rage like the hackles of a witch’s cat.  Steam would have erupted from his ears and nostrils if it was possible, but slamming Zoey against the marbled wall with the outside of his right forearm to her neck would suffice.

“You’re cramping my style.  Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you too!?”  Andreas demanded as he pressed the full weight of his body against her.  Zoey raised her arms against Andreas’s fuzzy chest and attempted to squirm away but to no avail.  As Andreas thrust his forearm against her throat even further into the unrelenting wall, Zoey’s face turned red like an irritated blemish.  Losing grip on her black Chanel clutch, it fell along with her mind into an aphotic abyss as she gulped for air.

“Answer me!” Andreas’ broad chest rumbled against her muffled chin.  Being quick on her manicured toes, Zoey carefully uncapped the syringe of tranquilizer in the pocket of A-Line dress and jabbed it into the nape of Andreas’ neck.

“What the…”, Andreas’ voice and body fell limp against her as he lost consciousness.  Retrieving the clutch at her stiletto donned feet and the syringe’s light blue cap from the pocket of her dress, Zoey recapped the syringe and placed it into her clutch.  Groping the inside of Andreas’ back pocket, Zoey stripped him of his cash and key card.  Zoey grabbed the bags of garbage in the corner of the breezeway and piled them on top of Andreas. 

“Hey, wake up”, Zoey leaned over and lightly shook the stranger by the shoulders.  The Smirnoff intoxicated man groaned and lightly rubbed his throat with the palm of his left hand.  A fraction of second passed by before reality hit home, and all that filled his thoughts was to get as far away as possible.  Scrambling to his feet, the stranger opened his eyes wide open and put his arms up in a defensive gesture.

“It’s okay.  I was walking by and saw what happened.  I told that guy I was gonna call the cops, and he ran away”,  Zoey threw her hands up with her palms facing the stranger.  The stranger sighed in relief and rested his forehead on her clavicles, smearing blood all over her simultaneously.  Zoey cringed in disgusted.  Physical contact with people was always awkward.  She always did prefer the company of animals

“I need to report this to the police.  Can you come with me since you were a witness?”, the stranger asked.

“Yea, I’ll come along.  Actually, my car’s parked in the garage over there.  I can take us there”, Zoey revealed and started walking towards the garage.

***

“Wow, the view’s so nice from up the sixth floor”, Zoey looked down.  The stain on Zoey’s dress bothered her to no end and made her eye twitch.

 “It sure is”, the stranger agreed and leaned his elbows over the handrails of the stairs to peer out at the city.

Zoey took a quiet step back and shoved the stranger with all the force of her foot.  

Suicide.

Taking the Tide To Go pen from her clutch, she erased the strangers existence.  The night air billowed through the scarlet scarf that was tied to her clutch.

***

 “Excuse me, my boyfriend has had a bit too much to drink tonight, I’m afraid he’ll need help back to our room” Zoey giggled to herself.

“Right away, miss.  I’ll ring up the bell boy” the receptionist flashed his radiant smile behind the counter and called for a “John” through his phone.  A moment later, Zoey was approached by brunette hair topped with a red brimless hat, matching red coat accompanied by a golden pin that had the name “John” engraved in it, and a golden luggage cart in tow.

“Hello, how can I help you?” the sturdy young man inquired.  Zoey looked up from her sickly hangnail and sighed in annoyance.

“My boyfriend needs to be brought back to our room, he’s out in the breezeway”, Zoey handed John the plastic card key and the wad of cash.

***

An incandescent light danced a spectrum of oranges through Andreas’ eyelids. Regaining control of his equilibrium, he discovered that his wrists and ankles were bound to the arms and legs of a wicker chair respectively.  Andreas was welcomed by his obituary filled spiral bound scrapbook propped neatly on the alluring cream of feminine legs.

“Good morning sunshine” Zoey chirped and smiled sheepishly from her seat on the ottoman in front of Andreas.  Red wrists rubbed raw as he struggled to move.

“Don’t show your face again, Messy Man.  I’m onto you”, Zoey warned as she shoved a dog-eared newspaper clipping about a “Donna” to Andreas’ face.

***

            A plump ginger who ran through temp jobs in Manhattan as much as a woman would run through shoes, Donna was Andreas’ latest victim.  The two met online through a dating website and were in a long distance relationship for almost three years.  Donna’s shared his love for Savannah cats and hats.  After three long months, he would be able to see his Donna again. 

It wasn’t until recently that he was transferred to Manhattan to oversee this big project his company was working on that he ran into Zoey at the Starbucks on Columbus Ave.  At first he thought she was just attractive; however, upon scanning his mind of her existence, he remembered that he had seen her in a couple of Donna’s profile pictures.  The thing that caught his attention was her black Chanel clutch.  It was an ordinary clutch, the only difference was minuscule.  On the metallic links of the handles, there hung a silk scarlet scarf.  In the corner of the scarf, little letters read “Zoey” in white embroidery.

“Green tea for Zoey”, the barista called.  Zoey raised his curiosity.  Day after day for the span of a week, he frequented this specific Starbucks hoping to see her again.  He got a New York Times and a double latte.  He sat down by the window at eight o’clock sharp and waited.  Her face constantly haunted his dreams and reality.  The people he would kill to meet the owner of that gentle face.  The majority of his thoughts were filled of Zoey, Zoey and only Zoey.  Zoey, he recently learned of her name.  Zoey is a beautiful name.

            “Zoey, what does she do?”, Andreas pointed to the girl smiling next to Donna in the photo.  Zoey’s name rolled nicely off of his tongue with zest.  Donna claimed to be a “close friend” of Zoey.  The haughty ginger further explained how she often took pleasure in taking advantage of the gullible veterinarian.

            When the new Christian Louboutins came out, Donna could not tear herself away from the display window.  Zoey finally broke down and made a deal in which Donna could pay her back in small installments at a time.  Months went by and Donna did not scratch the surface of her debt to Zoey, and all was forgotten.

***

“What are you doing here?  Nevermind that, I can’t talk to you right now.  I’m in the middle of my shift.  You’re gonna get me in trouble” Zoey screamed through her whisper.

“Zoey, where were those tests I told you to run a while ago?”, a voice boomed through the small window.

“Wonderful, now you’ve gone and upset the great James… I know it was you, I remember each and every detail in those articles, word for word.  What do you want from me?”, Zoey’s tired brown eyes scanned Andreas’ hazel ones.

“Zoey, now!”, the voice shook the walls of the office.  Wyatt tapped Zoey from inside the building.  Dogs were often fond of Wyatt.  Despite his constant aroma of bacon and fried chicken, the new intern of two months was broken into and proved to be useful time after time. 

“Hey, I got those tests results analyzed and printed.  You’d think that since Simon’s dead, it’d be chiller here.  I’ll give it to the big grouch on my way out and save you the trouble”, Wyatt winked at Andreas as he made his way back to his boss.

“Thanks for helping me with Simon, but you don’t understand.  This is my job.  You can’t just get rid of my boss, because he’s a jerk.  Donna was my friend. I don’t care if she took advantage of me.  Friends don’t let money get in the way of their friendship.  I could hardly care if some stranger such as yourself felt another way either.  You can’t go messing with people’s lives like this.  You… You’re too much, Andreas”, Zoey muttered. 

“Wait”, Andreas’ grip on her petite wrist pleaded.

“What?! What more could you possibly want from my life?” Zoey tugged on her arm which only caused Andreas’ to tighten his grip.  Andreas pinned Zoey’s hands, each at the side of her head, against the rough concrete walls and kissed her supple rose tinted lips deeply.

“You”, Andreas ghosted over her lovely jaw bone and released her wrists as he felt her respond to his kiss.  Zoey was disgusted with herself for not only liking Andreas’ kiss but also responding to it.  Feeling flustered, Zoey spun around on her toes and prepared herself for the earful she was going to get from James as she stepped her one foot past the threshold of the building.

***

Atop a mountain of rubble spanning into the city’s landfill, two silhouettes were bathed in the golden hour of the sun.

“My first time was stupid”, Zoey confessed.

“What happened?”, Andreas asked.

“I wasn’t prepared, it was really messy”, Zoey looked down.  Gently pushing her head left a little so that it rested his shoulder, he rubbed her back with his right arm.

“If it’s any comforting, my first time was painful”, Andreas’ chest bounced with his throaty chuckle.

“Aren’t you ever afraid you’ll get caught?”, Zoey raised her dark brown eyes at him.

“Not a problem.  Traveling businessman, I’ll be out of your hair in a week”, Andreas made clear.  His finger lingered even after he combed Zoey’s dark brown hair over her right ear.  A sense of lingering emerged from the swelling in his throat.  He grew such an attachment to this city and this girl.  This was an old feeling he only shared with Kira, his furry feline friend.

Andreas was shaken out of his reverie when his door bell buzzed.

“All right, Kira, no more bed time stories.  Off you go”, Andreas hoisted his black spotted, warm brown Savannah cat and placed her gently on the hardwood floor.  Kira purred deeply and slinked between Andreas’ legs as he got up.  While Kira stalked back to her plush and plump plum pillows, Andreas tugged at the wrinkles on the linen of his scarlet shirt before sauntering to the front door.  Looking through the peephole, there was a newspaper article that read “Man jumps off of sixth floor”.  A black blob with a tinge of red on its side was revealed when the article was lowered.


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tagged as: creative writing. RPF. limitations. ragequit.

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