russian roulette

Slim fingers reach out to slowly peel the red glove off of the thin hand. The skin beneath is glowing a beautiful tan in the orange lighting in the room. When the glove slips off the finger tips, it sinks towards the floor in a dance. The manicured nails only really show themselves now, no longer hidden in behind the silken fabric.

She looks up and meets chocolate brown eyes. There’s silence in the room, tension in the air and challenge between them as neither removes their gaze.

The red dress sinks from her lithe form and ends up in a bundle on the floor. He removes his tie in an aggressive hand motion that should have him choking but hasn’t.

She steps over the fabric at the floor, her black lingerie hugging her body tight and showcasing the goosebumps on her soft flesh.

They’re staring at each other as he slowly opens his button-up. He takes a step closer to her, reaches out a hand and gently touches her cheek.

There are apologies hanging in the air but she disregards them. She doesn’t want his apology and he doesn’t want her to take it. It’s a silent agreement, an unsaid understanding between them.

They look at each other, half- and beautiful. They’re waiting for the inevitable moment, for when her fingers curl around the cold metal attached to her garter. He sends her a smirk and she knows he holds it too, the cold metal that will tell their future, the metal that will determine their fate.

It’s a game. It has always been a game between them. She knew it long before he was with another woman. It was written in the stars, in their silent agreement when they first accepted the relationship between them.

Today will leave them breathless. Today will leave them free. Today will leave them bound by the contract written up society.

She takes a step towards him, her dark eyes still locked onto his. There are no emotions in their eyes, there are no secrets to be told from their bodies.

They’ve done it before, they’ve done it too many times. The game that continues until fate wants it differently. The game that will only take one of them.

She frees the metal from her garter and lifts it, points it towards his heart and lets it rest on his chest. The cold metal raises goosebumps on his skin and she smiles as she sees them, the little sign of betrayal, the little tell that he is afraid, that he doesn’t want to play anymore.

He has a purpose in life, a reason to keep up the facade, a reason to stay in the contract.

She doesn’t acknowledge his fear when he doesn’t acknowledge it either. He places the cold metal in his hand on her chest.

She can hear the silent disagreement, the unwelcome joke about how it’ll take longer for the bullet to reach her heart as it will have to pass through her voluptuous chest first. She ignores it like she has the previous years.

She presses the trigger of the gun in her hand a little and he does too.

They’re waiting for the right moment to pull the trigger, the moment that will tell them the future. His lips quiver in a want to question their game, in a need to stop it before it’s too late but she disregards the silent pleading.

Her eyes count down in the silent hotel room and the second she closes her eyes she pulls the trigger.

aUTHOR'S NOTE

Thanks for reading.