Random Short Stories/Written Ideas

A Flawed Idealism of Perfection

He'd made the mistake of saying the wrong things in front of the notoriously flirtatious, utter fashion icon that had previously been seated across from him.

He realized that the moment they moved, lifting themself out of the chair with all the grace of a swan. They crossed the distance between them in swift strides, an almost intimidating air floating about them.

"My dear," they started as they came to a stop before him. He'll never understand how they navigated a room when their hazy eyes saw nothing, and he has long since stopped questioning it. But when they bent at the waist, one hand coming up to rest on the back of the chair just beside his head, he could swear they were peering right at him.

He shuddered, shrinking away from the intensity that was nestled comfortably their normally soft features. Black strands of hair that had fallen out of their neat bun swayed with the movement. It always looked so impossibly soft that anyone in their right mind would want to touch it.

Charnel smiled at him, their luscious lips peeling back to reveal their perfect, pearly white teeth.

"You are precious as you are," they drawled, each word spoken softly. Their voice, smooth as butter, and as warm and soothing as hot chocolate on a rainy day. "If she can not treat you as such, then she will have to find another man to hound and berate for such trivial things. I will not have you repeating and believing the wicked things that she feeds you."

"...and if they're true?" He asked weakly. Shadows brushed against his ankles, causing him to flinch. It'd startled him.

Charnel's expression softened, and they shifted their gloved hand to cup his cheek gently.

"That's simply impossible, love. This is a flawed world filled with equally as flawed individuals. To treat those flaws as ugly things that need to be fixed or changed and to uphold this idealism of perfection is monstrous."

Perfection. Something that had been imposed on him since he was a child. Kenneth hadn't been able to escape it, and he was afraid he would never be able to. He so badly wanted to believe Charnel. So badly wanted to see things the way they did.

Perfection didn't exist. To be perfect was to be flawed, and he wished such a thing was accepted by all, rather than some.

Unfortunately, this world was hell-bent on perfection.

Still, he leaned into the loving touch, tears springing to his eyes as his woes caught up with him. Self-loathing bared its teeth, rearing its ugly head. But he focused on Charnel, refusing to give it any room to breathe.

"Suppose that's... Just another one of our flaws, huh?" He replied.

They hummed in agreement, dipping forwards to press their lips to his cheek in a soft kiss. It didn't last long, and he could practically feel the pure intentions radiating off of them.

...he could also smell a hint of the perfume they wore, the scent something he couldn't quite name, but was at the tip of his tongue.

Then, it was gone, following Charnel as they lifted themself once more. They'd released him.

"Now, let's get you something to drink. I'm sure you'll need it for the discussion you'll have with your oh-so-kind lady friend," they said with a wink.

He certainly will need a drink, just not for whatever discussion Charnel thought he was going to have with her (he was definitely going to have some kind of talk with her). More so because of the absolute whiplash they were giving him.

But that's just Charnel, and he knew they wanted only the best for the people around them.