Dangerous beginnings

Peccator - Sinner

Isabella

I have committed a cardinal sin.

His cologne lingers on my bedsheets, but he isn't there.

It's the next morning and after last night the wine pulled me into a big slumber. I just now woke up, the kitchen is cleaned and the apartment looks fresh. He cleaned my place before he made his way out.

I don't know what to feel. Guilty- shameful- scared or good. I have never been touched by a man. And for my first man to be touching me I had to chose him. Of course.

I stare at my panties on the floor besides my bed. Something in my stomach crawls. I close my eyes as I rethink last night. My cheeks staining red at the thought. What was I thinking? I even gave him my fucking permission. He asked for it and I gave it.

I mentally slap myself in the face. I rub my hands over my face in frustration. What the hell now? I just go to work and casually pretend like nothing is wrong and all while I'm going to have to cover for him? What does he even mean by that? Is he just using me and getting rid of me later once he got what he needs? Am I just a stupid play thing like all other possible girls?

Multiple questions fill my head and they make me anxious. They make me regret my actions. But when I think back about last night my stomach fills again and I can not deny I felt good.

Staring at myself in the mirror I gape at my neck, a big bruise formed its way around my neck. Because he choked me. Looking at it I imagine his hand there, like last night. Pressing against my raw skin, as his inked hands kept me in place. Fuck I am going to need to wear a turtle neck.

I take a hot shower, washing my sins away.

After the shower I put a black skinny, black turtle neck and black high heels on. Staring at myself in the mirror I decide I need some concealer and mascara. Brushing my hair and adding parfum, ready. Hoping the parfum overpowers his scent.

I brace myself while looking in the mirror. I have invited him in, myself. I don't know yet what that means but I'm afraid it won't take long for me to be met with him yet again. But this time it's completely different. It's more intimidating, more personal and more complicated.

I sign as I grab my keys while throwing my bag over my shoulder. I stare at the door, I don't need to lock it for him. He'll let himself in anyway.

Aslanov

I should have distanced myself from her. I should have never agreed to touch her.

Her sweet scent still sits in my fucking fingers. She has invited me in, she has stepped into the ring with a man she doesn't even know. With a monster.

She perceives me as a monster.

And she is right for that. After all this time I thought I wasn't capable of feeling these emotions anymore, but apparently deep inside I still can.

Yet, she let me touch her. Not only that, she kneels at my feet. And even though she is she one kneeling at my feet- she controls me just as much. I have crossed my boundaries for her and I have broken two of my rules for her. One don't show empathy and feelings, two do not forgive.

I don't pleasure woman. I only pleasure myself, yet I only pleasured her last night. And it awoke a feeling inside of me.

My usual stoicism begins to crack, giving way to an unsettling undercurrent of anger. I'm accustomed to a life devoid of emotional attachments, a carefully crafted existence where love is an alien concept and caring for others is a luxury I cannot afford.