Like a lighthouse in the darkness of her vast mind, a spark of shimmering radiance drew Melanie's ephemeral attention. A star on the horizon, the sun's first rays over a desolate expanse of turgid wastelands, she caught the fleeting glimmer and pulled herself from the hellish landscape that was her uniquely nightmarish burden to bear. The price paid for greatness, the ultimate sacrifice. Her mind for her people, her sanity for her brethren. In fits and starts, she could feel her ruptured consciousness return to the place she'd called home, she could feel it attach itself with bloody chains back to a body bound for glory.
For the first time, or what felt like it, this waking was sanctioned by moonlit promises and soft kisses that required no looking over each other's shoulders for the irate eyes of another lover. Never one to sleep, she'd spent the night in a free fall, a release of her mind's toxins into the void that had spawned such a maligned entity. Like an infected wound pouring poisoned blood on the doctor's table, forced memories were a constant reminder, a way to draw energy from fresh anger. As she stirred, the form beside her, a familiar yet strangely new figure, shifted due to the bed's subtle motions. "Ayo, babygirl.. it ain't time to wake up yet..."
As Melanie posted her body on one slender elbow, she reached across, she shifted short, tousled bangs from Terry's face and leaned across. Though she drew the svelte curve of plush lips on the woman's forehead, she spoke murmured words. "You've got work today, yeah? Sleep in for another half an hour. I'll make you breakfast, then we can shower, right?"
Muted grumbling accompanied the reach that followed the shadow touched siren's departure. Impossibly light steps lead her towards Terry's dresser, it was the work of but a moment before she'd slipped into a tee shirt that was altogether to large for her phantasmal form.
Though she did not eat, the kitchen was no alien world to such a strange, enigmatic collection of odd quirks and volatile moods. This time around, this second stab at a relationship with a close friend, Melanie understood what made such things work. Affection was not enough, love and compassion only built bridges as far as words and actions let them. While blinking owlishly, she sighed, a soft thing that built in the depths of an aching, bleeding heart. Rarely a creature to greet the sun, she turned a baleful stare towards a shining window before she turned into the pantry and dragged out a box of pancake mix. On a whim, as the domestic motions of mixing stole her physical attention, she took up a heart shaped cookie cutter and placed it on the flat top griddle that dominated a counter. Short moments later, she poured the sticky batter, complete with a satisfying sizzle into the mold and watched as bubbles began to form. This wasn't enough, she thought.
Even though her nose wrinkled at the idea of consuming something so cute as a pig, she laid slices of bacon beside the metal mold and flipped them, sullen motions that ended as the fat burned off and the meat seared. A small stack, enough for one, was placed along a pile of drained bacon. No one needed extra saturated fats. Complete with a pat of butter and a small glass contained or syrup, she started for Terry's room, only to be greeted mid way with, "Ayo, Melanie! It don't take that long to make cereal."
Her head shook, a slow smile crawled along features set in porcelain, some mad sculptor's dying attempt at flawless beauty with such demons locked behind the smoky mesh of long lashes. "Hold on!" A short detour was made to her own room, a moment spent tying long hair back with a bright pink bow, something that clashed with the raven's feathers that fanned across her shoulders so loosely. "That's because I didn't make cereal."
This was spoken as soon as she hipped Terry's door open and, without a second wasted, slipped onto the bed. Perched on her knees, she held the platter out. The expression she wore, a slightly nervous smile lit with trepidation and bowed under the weight of layers upon mountains of self doubt, was turned on a friend and a lover, a companion. Her girlfriend. The thought, though a welcome one, was still so fresh, still so strange. These two, of all people?
"Eat up, yeah? The fact that you, you know, changed your schedule and made sure to be with me last night, it meant a lot." The small things, the words backed by actions were comfort in the night, they were bulwarks against the storm winds that whipped around such a ruined heart. As Terry took the platter with a lopsided grin, Melanie's own smile flared to a glorious climax as she sat and watched, legs folded beneath her. "And then we'll shower, and you can go!"
For the first time, or what felt like it, this waking was sanctioned by moonlit promises and soft kisses that required no looking over each other's shoulders for the irate eyes of another lover. Never one to sleep, she'd spent the night in a free fall, a release of her mind's toxins into the void that had spawned such a maligned entity. Like an infected wound pouring poisoned blood on the doctor's table, forced memories were a constant reminder, a way to draw energy from fresh anger. As she stirred, the form beside her, a familiar yet strangely new figure, shifted due to the bed's subtle motions. "Ayo, babygirl.. it ain't time to wake up yet..."
As Melanie posted her body on one slender elbow, she reached across, she shifted short, tousled bangs from Terry's face and leaned across. Though she drew the svelte curve of plush lips on the woman's forehead, she spoke murmured words. "You've got work today, yeah? Sleep in for another half an hour. I'll make you breakfast, then we can shower, right?"
Muted grumbling accompanied the reach that followed the shadow touched siren's departure. Impossibly light steps lead her towards Terry's dresser, it was the work of but a moment before she'd slipped into a tee shirt that was altogether to large for her phantasmal form.
Though she did not eat, the kitchen was no alien world to such a strange, enigmatic collection of odd quirks and volatile moods. This time around, this second stab at a relationship with a close friend, Melanie understood what made such things work. Affection was not enough, love and compassion only built bridges as far as words and actions let them. While blinking owlishly, she sighed, a soft thing that built in the depths of an aching, bleeding heart. Rarely a creature to greet the sun, she turned a baleful stare towards a shining window before she turned into the pantry and dragged out a box of pancake mix. On a whim, as the domestic motions of mixing stole her physical attention, she took up a heart shaped cookie cutter and placed it on the flat top griddle that dominated a counter. Short moments later, she poured the sticky batter, complete with a satisfying sizzle into the mold and watched as bubbles began to form. This wasn't enough, she thought.
Even though her nose wrinkled at the idea of consuming something so cute as a pig, she laid slices of bacon beside the metal mold and flipped them, sullen motions that ended as the fat burned off and the meat seared. A small stack, enough for one, was placed along a pile of drained bacon. No one needed extra saturated fats. Complete with a pat of butter and a small glass contained or syrup, she started for Terry's room, only to be greeted mid way with, "Ayo, Melanie! It don't take that long to make cereal."
Her head shook, a slow smile crawled along features set in porcelain, some mad sculptor's dying attempt at flawless beauty with such demons locked behind the smoky mesh of long lashes. "Hold on!" A short detour was made to her own room, a moment spent tying long hair back with a bright pink bow, something that clashed with the raven's feathers that fanned across her shoulders so loosely. "That's because I didn't make cereal."
This was spoken as soon as she hipped Terry's door open and, without a second wasted, slipped onto the bed. Perched on her knees, she held the platter out. The expression she wore, a slightly nervous smile lit with trepidation and bowed under the weight of layers upon mountains of self doubt, was turned on a friend and a lover, a companion. Her girlfriend. The thought, though a welcome one, was still so fresh, still so strange. These two, of all people?
"Eat up, yeah? The fact that you, you know, changed your schedule and made sure to be with me last night, it meant a lot." The small things, the words backed by actions were comfort in the night, they were bulwarks against the storm winds that whipped around such a ruined heart. As Terry took the platter with a lopsided grin, Melanie's own smile flared to a glorious climax as she sat and watched, legs folded beneath her. "And then we'll shower, and you can go!"