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Mei
Star
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2009
Yvan pressed the palms of his pale hands against his eyes, pressing hard enough to elicit bright spots that danced on his eyelids in strange and meandering patterns, that made his feel disordiented. And, unbidden to him, he saw that shadowed figured again, leaning across someone's bound body the exact way one would lean and hover over a lover, or over someone's deathbed in that strange, solemn and loving way. But unlike that of a lover, or a loved one, this man held a scalpel and a credit card in his hands. And the scalpel hand was tracing a slow line from one corner of the bound person's mouth to ear, and the blood blossomed from the paper-thin gash. And then the credit card was forced into the gash, forcing the cut open, revealing more muscle and the inside of his jaw, and Yvan watched the body thrash around in silent pain, as the scalpel repeated the same thing from the other corner of his mouth.
Oh, Lord. . .
Opening his eyes, Yvan shook his head slightly, trying to shake the image from his head. But he could recognize the lean body of the murderer, the refined way that he held himself, the sharp and long angles of his form, the elegant and cat-like motions. . .
No!
It couldn't be, it simply couldn't be. Everyone in this world had a doppelgaenger, after all, a twin. . . Yes, that was it. That was the reason, that was the solution. It just couldn't be, it just couldn't be. . .
The young man in his early twenties (twenty-two to be exact), gave a luxurious but shaky stretch, thin and lean arms outstretched above him, still trying to shake those thoughts from his pretty little blonde head. His eyes fluttered close, and yvan sagged in his seat for a few brief seconds. No, why think those sorts of thoughts when he had so much work to do? His boss certainly wouldn't be pleased with him slacking off, and he finally opened his clear emerald eyes to stare at his computer screen, a half-written report on it. He needed to finish this today, and he had to prepare a PowerPoint for tomorrow's presentation as well.
And then, an dthen he cold go home and soak in his bath in his brand new house, and have a delicious dinner and then invite Alexis over. . . And the two of them would spend a few romantic hours in front of the fireplace with her before bringing her into his bed and. . .
A brief smile lifted up the corners of his sensuous lips, and the thought of Alexis in bed with him (in his bed!) was certainly a delicious one.
"Yvan, did you hear about the murder last night? Another one, imagine!" Fiona, one of his co-workers appeared behind him.
Oh, yes, Fiona, not only did I hear about it, but I also saw it as well, the entire bloody horror of it and I might know the killer.
Repressed shudders.
"Yes, I did. And please, Fiona, I'm busy. Not now."
Oh, Lord. . .
Opening his eyes, Yvan shook his head slightly, trying to shake the image from his head. But he could recognize the lean body of the murderer, the refined way that he held himself, the sharp and long angles of his form, the elegant and cat-like motions. . .
No!
It couldn't be, it simply couldn't be. Everyone in this world had a doppelgaenger, after all, a twin. . . Yes, that was it. That was the reason, that was the solution. It just couldn't be, it just couldn't be. . .
The young man in his early twenties (twenty-two to be exact), gave a luxurious but shaky stretch, thin and lean arms outstretched above him, still trying to shake those thoughts from his pretty little blonde head. His eyes fluttered close, and yvan sagged in his seat for a few brief seconds. No, why think those sorts of thoughts when he had so much work to do? His boss certainly wouldn't be pleased with him slacking off, and he finally opened his clear emerald eyes to stare at his computer screen, a half-written report on it. He needed to finish this today, and he had to prepare a PowerPoint for tomorrow's presentation as well.
And then, an dthen he cold go home and soak in his bath in his brand new house, and have a delicious dinner and then invite Alexis over. . . And the two of them would spend a few romantic hours in front of the fireplace with her before bringing her into his bed and. . .
A brief smile lifted up the corners of his sensuous lips, and the thought of Alexis in bed with him (in his bed!) was certainly a delicious one.
"Yvan, did you hear about the murder last night? Another one, imagine!" Fiona, one of his co-workers appeared behind him.
Oh, yes, Fiona, not only did I hear about it, but I also saw it as well, the entire bloody horror of it and I might know the killer.
Repressed shudders.
"Yes, I did. And please, Fiona, I'm busy. Not now."