"Your utter disregard for anyone other than yourself is only shadowed by your irreverent greed for that which is not yours to have! Darling, what don't you require?"
"Require? Require?" The tall dark-haired woman shrieked with a certain ferocity, not too unbecoming of her obviously abrasive nature. She sat indian-style amongst a menagerie of pillows on a large bed.
Standing in the doorway, the man took in a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something. After a slight pause his mouth closed abruptly and it was clear he had changed his mind. Whatever witty retort was brewing fell short of making it to his tongue.
The room was styled in an old Victorian theme, with dark shades of purple saturating nearly all the furnishings. Tall windows crawled up to the vaulted ceiling and large ghostly drapes tethered them to the wall. In the center of the room sat an enormous bed so high off the ground it had its own small wooden staircase.
I'm not going to lie, I was anxious for the inevitable skirmish. Not often do they get the chance to showoff this colorful affection they so amicably share with eachother. Holding my breath, I waited patiently for the onslaught.
The broad's name was Juliet Longsbell, his, Jack Warner. Together they might have come off as a modern day Bonnie and Clyde. Real in love. Real dangerous. Juliet's normally keen eyes were weary from the remarkably busy day she'd been through. She wore nothing more than her undergarments, silk and revealing. Attractive and muscular, she was so beautiful that no amount of clothing could fully conceal the curvaceous figure beneath. A freshly lit cigarette hung delicately between her two fingers.
Jack was dressed in his usual attire: a finely pressed suit hidden beneath a cobalt blue trench-coat. He was a man of average height and build. In fact he was average in almost every way, with the exception of his face which consisted of sharp angles and an offensively oversized mustache. Together these features demanded attention and gave him an unspeakable aura of importance.
Unable to imagine how Jack had found her, she coyly tugged her bra strap. "Really Jack, what the hell do you want from me?" she uttered, stern but not without the slightest sprig of desperation.
While frantically negotiating with a stubborn button in an attempt to remove his pants, Jack suddenly realized what he was doing. He had come here to set things straight, to find out the truth. Instead, his intellect lost out to his bodily desires. With the reigns of self-control let loose, his movements became less restricted and more automatic. The button finally forfeited to his tenacious digits, bringing his pants crashing to the floor. He glanced up and focused on Juliet's lips.
It soon became clear that the bout I had expected to witness was either being put on hold, or postponed indefinitely. I suddenly felt foolish for expecting otherwise. My anticipation was quickly drowned by my growing concern of being discovered by Jack. I could almost make out my own worried eyes in the reflection of his meticulously well polished shoes. They poked out menacingly from under his previously worn pants. My grip on the revolver hardened accordingly.
A Clean, formatted verion of this can be found here.
