Peepshow Ruffles

Bruised knuckles rapped against the oak wood of the Elephant Room’s door. Adele remembered her manners, but she hadn’t remembered to cover her legs when she went to retrieve a croissant for Christian. Even now, she could feel the biting wind scraping against her old and fresh wounds. She was shifting uncomfortably, her bare feet sinking into the maroon carpet.

The door opened then and she nearly sighed in relief. She paused for a moment allowing her eyes to wander Christian’s weary face. The recognition was clear on his face, though she wasn’t sure if she liked the emotion paired with it. Smiling wearily, she murmured, “Can I come in?”

Shaking his head as if in a daze, he nodded stepping away from the door and pulling it open farther and she quickly skirted into the room. She set the pastry down on a table that was covered in scribbled papers and a typewriter. She frowned, clearing a space so as not to ruin the poet’s work. Though she did pick one up, attempting to inconspicuously scan the writings.

Christian stepped up behind her, taking the croissant and her hand. She froze, unsure of what to do—something she had honestly never felt in a situation like this before. The smile he gave her was both comforting and stiff. He led her to the bed where they both sat in silence.

Adele soon found herself staring at him in wonder. But she didn’t miss where his eyes had wandered. They lingered on her thighs, on her tarnished skin—her tainted body. Closing her eyes, she tried to force back her shame.

“Who did this to you?”