Pretty Poison

Twenty - Two

◈ Beatrice ◈

A soft knock sounds on the door, and I stir and groan as I struggle to open my eyes.

"May I come in, Signorina?" A soft voice asks from the other side of the door.

"Sì!" I call back, sitting up and rubbing the remaining grogginess away just as the door quickly opens then closes.

"My apologies for disturbing you, miss, but I have brought clothes for you. Be ready to meet Master Luca in the foyer by eleven. You will be leaving with him shortly after. Master Vincenzo has left the house so no need to worry about him," she lightly smiles a kind grin.

"Leaving? Leaving where?" I question.

"I cannot say for I was not told, Signorina. But here are your clothes, everything you need is already waiting for you in the bathroom," at that, she bows her head then leaves, setting the clothes down on the edge of the bed.

I hoist myself up, crawling to the end of the bed to take hold of the items. I peer down at them with a small gasp escaping my lips.

At my knees, a gorgeous blue gown drapes. The brodice a dark navy blue made up of lace that allows the skin to be seen through small intricate designs. Two evenly sized flaps of fabric stretch across the top of the breast cups, appearing like wings stretching wide. The rest of the dress is silk and floor length. I stared at it for a moment longer, realizing that a matching pair of lace panties was tucked under the dress.

I make my way to my feet, standing and stretching out my limbs. A strange sensation takes over me, my body feeling well rested and not deprived of energy. A small smile takes over my lips, a newfound happiness taking hold of me when I realize this wasn't a dream. It's real, it's all real.

I stride over to the bathroom, and step inside, finally able to take in the grandness of the space. The quartz floors are carried into the space, and so are the marble walls. An abstract light fixture stretches the length of the bathroom, illuminating a large glass shower that stands from floor to ceiling. The head inside hangs from the ceiling, spraying straight down, something I have never seen before.

I step in further and see that on the right side a large bathtub carved from marble sits. Candle sticks of different heights line the edge, the tub large enough to fit two bodies. A lip juts out from the tub onto the floor, several black towels stacked on top of each other perfectly.

I pull my rib length hair to the side, lifting my shirt over my head and throwing it to the floor, and I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My skin glows white under the light, a startling contrast to the walls around me. My stomach is even lighter, the skin there never seeing the sun. My eyes travel down my body to my torso, where a single scar resides.

My thumb traces it, the clean line no longer than six inches. It has been there for as long as I remember, and I don't remember how I got it. All I know is that strangely, it causes extreme pain sometimes, like cramps on a period.

I drop my pants on the ground too, viewing my entirely nude body in the mirror with a certain disorientation and absence. I stride to the shower, pulling open the door that sticks to magnetic plates. The shower extends into the wall, the floor made of smooth black stones. The knob has ten different settings, and I stare fascinated at the contraption.

I pull the lever down, the shower releasing scalding hot water onto my back and I hiss as it burns. I rapidly turn the heat setting down to a more adequate temperature, my body beginning to relax as years worth of knots come loose under my skin.

My shoulders sag to the floor as I look up into the water, droplets flowing down my face leaving behind refreshing streaks. I rub my face, cupping my hands with water only to splash it onto my cheeks. Four different products are set in a perfect line on the bench, a razor, poof, and bar of soap all next to it.

I must've spent at least forty minutes standing there, lathering as much soap as I could onto my body, and rubbing my hair with a sweetly scented honey shampoo and conditioner. I felt so tranquil under the water, the heat allowing my body to release all stress.

As soon as the water shut off the frost returned, engulfing my figure and sending shivers down my spine. I reach for a towel off of the rack next to the door, drying my body with the soft fabric. The towel I had in the apartment was made of a harsh material and it always left behind rashes, but this is a nice change.

It's funny how even the simplest things can be pleasurable and magnificent. I stride back over to the mirror, the glass fogged. Out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of a small round button right next to the mirror, and I press it. Instantly, a fan begins to blow air onto the mirror, the fog evaporating in seconds to reveal my wet body standing with wide eyes.

Cool, I say to myself with a smile.

I pull out each drawer like a child, my curiosity running wild. Brushes, combs, curlers, every kind of makeup product, toothbrushes, paste, and three different types of hair dryers all are neatly placed in the drawers, everything having their own designated place. I feel giddy inside, every beauty product any girl could ever want right at my fingertips.

I reach for the hairdryer first, sticking the plug into the outlet and extending the wire. I brush out my hair, the brush gliding through it like melted butter. The bristles massage my scalp, the feeling so tranquilizing.

Fifteen minutes pass by in a breeze, my focus captivated by the satisfaction of my drying hair. Natural curls form around my face as the rest falls straight. I contemplate whether or not to use the curling iron, but decide not to out of fear of burning myself. I open the drawer with all the makeup again, staring at the endless pallets, concealers, foundation, bronzer, highlighter, and mascara sticks, brushes are neatly organized by size in containers. Part of me wants to try everything, but I know I will end up looking like a cake.

Instead, I settle with a stick of mascara, unscrewing the cap and leaning close to the mirror. The brush glides over my lashes with ease, immediately leaving behind darkened lashes that appear longer than they ever have before. I always saw women in Venice with mascara and full, beautiful faces of makeup and I always wondered what it would be like to be able to afford such luxuries. I guess now I do.

I step back, admiring the simplest change in my face, the darkness of my lashes allowing my unnaturally blue eyes to shine through. My dried hair falls freely around my face, framing my jaw and indented cheekbones. For once I stare back at myself and feel beautiful, though I know it to be silly.

I break away from myself, beginning to feel a bit self absorbed, and reach for the dress and panties. I put the panties on first, then the dress; unzipping the back and placing it over my head with extreme delicate care. The dress hugs my figure perfectly, the zipper sliding up my back quickly as I pull at it.

I take one last look at myself, the beauty of the dress overcoming me. My eyes become glassy. I never thought I would get to see myself in something so nice, and every inch of me just feels so grateful.

The door creaks as I open it, stepping back into the chilly bedroom. The comforter and pillows had been fixed back up, looking like no one had ever touched it. I peer to the bedside table to the clock incessantly ticking, the hands reading ten fifty five.

At that, I instantly bolt through the door, carefully closing it behind me and rushing down the hall. I feel the dress behind me flow freely in the wind as I jog, only then to return to place on my smooth and clean skin.

My heart begins to beat rapidly, a sudden surge of nervousness overcoming me.