rush ▶ h.s

pro.

An orgasm. 

That was probably the only way Iris could ever describe the most euphoric thing she's ever felt. It felt like the ever cherished orgasm. 

Had all the same characteristics of one, too. The way it travels through your entire body like a virus, melting your muscles to putty as you let your entire body go, and be washed away with the most intense amount of pleasure it seems you haven't felt in ages -- every single time.

Iris' body broke out in goose bumps when she felt the warm liquid rush into her veins, her teeth immediately setting the rubber strip free that was wrapped tightly around the crook in her arm. She threw her head back in esctacy as her entire body clenched -- the first wave is always the best. 

Iris loved this part -- it made her feel like she was on a cloud, or somewhere unearthly as they say. She felt like she was out of her soul even, and had no worries in the world other than the feeling she has right now. She closed her eyes, completely ignoring the people of identical states as they all laid strewn across each other, in the same little bubble of pleasure along with her. 

All the people crowded in this very house, were all alike in many ways. They all shared many qualities -- they did. 

They were all quite rugged, and careless. They all cope with the harsh sting of reality similarly, and in a way probably far from healthy to a normal human being with common goals, morals and values. 

But what made Iris so different was that -- nothing compared to feeling of the metal piercing her skin, the poison thrusting into her body had no competition. It is her life. 

This tiny little needle was what kept her mind together it occurred to her, and without it, she felt she truly would perish into oblivion. Without it, Iris felt she would truly go absolutely insane. 

"Iris," she heard her name, and when she finally opened her eyes, she couldn't quite remember the guy's name, but he was familiar. He was quite an ugly fellow. He had craters forming indentations in his cheeks, slightly greasy, dark hair, and brown skin. After his highs, he would scratch and pick at his skin until he was raw. To the bigger percentage of society, he would look deranged, and frightening, but to Iris he was a friend -- one she couldn't remember the name of at the moment. 

He motioned to a couple lines of powdery, white dust in front of him, holding a rolled up dollar in between his fingers, obviously inviting her to take a hit, and she figured she's got nothing else to do, and the euphoria from her favorite drug was starting to wear down, as quick as it came. 

The man opened his arms, and let her perch upon his lap, his arms instinctively curling around her waist, as she aligned the small tube with her nose, sucking the tiny grains up her nostrils. This, she didn't fancy as much as the other, but it still gave her an incredible high. It gave her nose a sting, but she was good enough to do two more before she quit, and let the guy do the last three. 

Iris' eyes were hazy and unfocused, she felt a little dizzy, and wired, but she could still function. Without hesitation, after the man was finished, she pressed her full lips onto his, her arms wrapping around his neck as he kissed her back straightaway. It wasn't weird to her to break out in a sexual rendevous amongst the many people around them, and even the foul stinch in the air. This was her norm. 

Her eyes rolled back, along with her head as he began to place needy, open mouthed kisses on her neck, small moans emmitting from her lips.

Iris has always tried to be "normal", but this? This was her rush. 

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