Status: Complete.
Peepshow Ruffles
Chapter Fifteen
The twirling of damaged cocktail glasses and waltzing whiskey somehow seemed to illuminate the bordello. The footsteps of men parted with a prolonged echo upon bare ladies in lace garments. Glass became their fragile heels, with scorned knees, and smothered neck. The flame of friction painted feminine skin shades otherwise seen on the coattails of effulgent peacocks, with the course hands of honoured gentlemen. Why, what a treat to the eyes sprites of the Moulin Rouge are, caged within their callous feathers and skimpy skirts, and what a disappointment their company was.
Christian’s forlorn expression ached for a single sip of woman, yet settled for bitter drink. Beneath the layers of his sloppy attire lingered drippings of red velvet, where claws of a minx had shattered the perfection of his skin. Last night’s ventures dared not intrude upon his mind, so perturbed and subdued by poor bedding and poor judgement.
A sigh formed from behind his russet shoulders, his ears twitching with a sense of moral malfeasance, almost instantly pursued by the hymn of a dwarf’s disheartened tone.
“I thought you quit”.
Hissing slightly at his fellow’s statement, Christian tightened his grip upon the bottle between his tended fingers.
“Use your common sense, Christian, this isn’t going to-” Toulouse’s calm whisper suddenly punctured by the cries of a broken artist.
“Senses?” inquired the daunted lover, “To come to my ‘senses’”, mimicking unusually at the previous line spoken by a dear colleague, “I must rely on my senses.” His eyes spoke of things even Shakespeare refused to pen. For loss and love could not produce the loss of love, but truly the loss of a loved one.
“My vision unable to recognise her fiery stands, nor sweet face. The scent of French cologne, as opposed to Indian spices, had not declined my frame upon hers’. Her hand upon my cheek welcomed as alien, yet interpreted as darling. My senses know nothing of love. My senses refuse to remember her.”
The ink-stained scales of quivering fingers encouraged Christian’s fickle spine to adjust for a standing position, only to align his neck with the petite poet beside him.
"I slept with her, Toulouse".
Christian’s forlorn expression ached for a single sip of woman, yet settled for bitter drink. Beneath the layers of his sloppy attire lingered drippings of red velvet, where claws of a minx had shattered the perfection of his skin. Last night’s ventures dared not intrude upon his mind, so perturbed and subdued by poor bedding and poor judgement.
A sigh formed from behind his russet shoulders, his ears twitching with a sense of moral malfeasance, almost instantly pursued by the hymn of a dwarf’s disheartened tone.
“I thought you quit”.
Hissing slightly at his fellow’s statement, Christian tightened his grip upon the bottle between his tended fingers.
“Use your common sense, Christian, this isn’t going to-” Toulouse’s calm whisper suddenly punctured by the cries of a broken artist.
“Senses?” inquired the daunted lover, “To come to my ‘senses’”, mimicking unusually at the previous line spoken by a dear colleague, “I must rely on my senses.” His eyes spoke of things even Shakespeare refused to pen. For loss and love could not produce the loss of love, but truly the loss of a loved one.
“My vision unable to recognise her fiery stands, nor sweet face. The scent of French cologne, as opposed to Indian spices, had not declined my frame upon hers’. Her hand upon my cheek welcomed as alien, yet interpreted as darling. My senses know nothing of love. My senses refuse to remember her.”
The ink-stained scales of quivering fingers encouraged Christian’s fickle spine to adjust for a standing position, only to align his neck with the petite poet beside him.
"I slept with her, Toulouse".
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I'm so sorry for the quality (or lack of), of this. I just really wanted to get it done so It could get up and running again. IT's about half eleven at night, and I'm absolutely shattered.Sorry and thank you to all the readers, and especially silk tea., for putting up with this delay. Completely my fault, and I'm thankful that y'all put up with it!