First (and only, because I’m not posting my “bad sex scene”) thing that I managed to write this week was a “tragic romance”. It’s not like other things I may post here, as it’s something that I had to write in a matter of a few minutes, but I said that I would post everything (well… Almost everything) that I do in my University’s Creative Writing society. It’s the only society I really go to and I love it, but I digress, this is what I managed this week:
I sit up on the mattress and reach for the pack of cheap cigarettes on the smooth metal cabinet to my left. Still got three left, which should last me until I can get to a merchant. I light one up and place it between my lips, drawing the air through the slow combustion of tobacco. Looking towards the open door, I notice a dim light and the sound of water running. He’s been in there for a few minutes now. I did not think that I would be capable of loving one of his clan, and yet, here I am; sitting on the bed with a cigarette between my lips after a long and, to my shame, enjoyable night of excess and passion.
Is it love? Do I really love him? Or is this just another object of lust? The questions circle around my head as I blow a thin cloud of smoke into the room. He walks back out of the bathroom, still naked. I can’t help but fix my gaze to his figure as he walks up beside me, pushes some of my hair back and kisses me on the cheek with a smile. How did I get into this situation? Loving him is just out of the question, it is forbidden, so why do I feel this way? Why now?
“Are you okay?” he asks me as I stare blankly at the opposite wall, cigarette poised between my fingers, as I try to reason with the situation and come to a logical conclusion. I look him in the eyes. I have never felt this way about someone before. I thought that it could just be lust speaking, but this is different. I can’t put my finger on it.
I smile weakly as I place my free hand on his cheek. Better not to think, better to just follow instructions. I feel the hidden, retractable blades beneath my nails sliding out of their position. I close my eyes and a tear rolls down my cheek, smile dissipating as quickly as his blood ran down my hand, then arm, then drips onto the mattress.
That’s all I got this week. I tend to get too wrapped up in conversations and, as I said, I’m not posting up my bad sex scene that I wrote. It’s something that I’ve been trying to improve, so I do not want the first sex scene that I post up to be really bad! 🙂
I’m going to be working on something for Valentine’s Day tomorrow. I plan on going to Tesco to buy ice cream and chocolate so I can really get into the feel of being a single writer on Valentine’s Day. Now all I need to do is find a collection of romance films…