Elisabeth Mariani's artistic prowess propels her towards the realm of fame and recognition, leading her to the vibrant streets of New York City. Her infectious smile illuminates the world around her, but amidst her discerning eye for flawed brushstr...
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I slid my hands into my trouser pockets, eyes fixated on the sole pair of illuminated windows within the apartment complex. A woman stepped into my line of vision. I instinctively leaned forward, obscuring my face in the shadows cast by the opposite side of the street.
There you are.
My gaze meticulously tracked her movements as she paced through the apartment's interior. I eased back a bit, my mind foggy and operating only at partial capacity.
She hung my jacket on a coat stand and casually flung the keys onto a surface, probably the hallway's dresser. I tilted my head slightly.
Can't remember me, Elisabeth? Such a pity.
Another figure emerged in a separate window, catching my attention. His hands folded apologetically in front of him, but my focus quickly shifted to Elisabeth - her lips moved, her face contorting with fury, causing the policeman to raise his hands in a gesture of surrender.
I could almost discern Elisabeth's ears reddening, though my distance made it hard to confirm. Her lips moved in rapid succession, her expression morphing into one of pure revulsion.
I retrieved a toothpick from my pocket, a pitiable alternative to cigarettes. Slipping it into my mouth, I leaned against the building's façade, still raptly observing the unfolding tableau.
Elisabeth, can you sense my gaze upon you? My scent must still cling to you, an enduring presence.
A faint smirk tugged at my lips as I deciphered what resembled a profanity dancing across hers. I shifted my attention back to the policeman. He cast a weary glance her way before advancing.
A surge of nausea gripped me as they stood in proximity. My tongue maneuvered the toothpick within my mouth. He placed his hands on her shoulders, confining her within his grasp. My muscles tensed, as if I might bolt at any second. I pressed myself harder into the wall, exhaling deeply.
He uttered something, and she responded by shaking her head, her lips eloquently silent. I squinted, straining to decipher her words.
"Please," his voice seemed to plead. A flicker of movement caught my eye. I watched in disdain as he drew nearer, pressing his lips to hers. She held her ground. Biting down on the toothpick, it snapped and clattered to the ground.
She allowed it. Allowed his disgusting lips pressing against hers.
My brow furrowed. After he released her, she regarded him weakly, as if overwhelmed by sudden exhaustion. She gestured toward the couch, situated just beyond the window's pane, then to herself.
Another utterance followed. He reached for her again, prompting her to retreat. But... she vanished into another room, leaving the policeman alone in the room, in my sight, his hands raking through his hair in desperation.
My head tilted once more. With a hole in his brain and his face smeared with blood, I might derive some macabre satisfaction from this situation.
I extracted a fresh toothpick and waited for Elisabeth's return, likely from the bathroom.
