Lust Has No Mercy
I
A strong loud cough echoed the bathroom as the petite girl gripped the aluminum rod that held up the decorative towelettes. The hoarse sound proceeded to bounce off the acoustics of the bathroom, the pale hand held the rod tighter as the wave of coughs subsided.
Rowan regained herself quickly, her head tipped downward as she stepped onto the scale. The numbers danced across the small rectangular screen before spitting out a green two digit number.
86.4lbs.
A sigh slipped from her chapped lips as she pulled back the vinyl curtain to the shower. Rowan turned the water on, briefly letting it run. She grabbed the white towel from under the sink and pulled off her baggy clothes jotting the newest weight number down onto the notebook.
As Rowan showered, the unexplained weight loss seemed to ricochet through her mind. It'd been going on for weeks. Three weeks, twenty pounds.
Taylor was starting to notice it more. Her hip bones stuck out now, her rib cage more visible, even her breasts looked smaller.
Wrapping the towel around her body, Rowan stepped onto the cold floor, her bony feet slowly starting to match the color of the linoleum.
Taylor Goodwin knocked politely on the door before turning the handle and sticking his head through the door way. A small reassuring smile slipped across his lips as he eyed his fiancée in her white towel.
"Are you okay?" he asked, upon hearing her coughing fit failing to become relinquished.
Rowan shrugged, the brown hair still saturated with water seemed to let small beads hit the floor in a tat-tat-tat manner; these sounds being the only wavelengths being transmitted through their conversation.
"I've lost more weight." she told him, untangling the towel from her body and slipping her undergarments on.
Taylor watched her with interest. He sat on the toilet bowl lid, his ankles crossed and his elbow resting on the countertop. It was hard seeing her look suddenly so fragile and delicate. The way her knees stuck out a little bit more, her vertebras sticking out a little bit more; The bones on her shoulders becoming rather sharp and savage-like...Okay; Maybe a little bit of an over exaggeration. Taylor Goodwin was struggling to cope with his future's dramatic changes.
Rowan reached down to pick up the towel, another hoarse sound rattled through her tired body, as she bent over to continue her coughing fit, except this fit was different then the one before. Rowan's face began to turn red, her throat burned, her eyes watered as she continued to hack. Taylor was kneeling in front of her, his hands gripping her thighs, as she choked and sputtered in the small space between them. He'd grown accustom to talking her through the fits, his calm voice would prevent her from having an anxiety attack. (Which could lead to other problems that probably belong in a different story.)
Rowan regained her breath.
Rowan regained herself quickly, her head tipped downward as she stepped onto the scale. The numbers danced across the small rectangular screen before spitting out a green two digit number.
86.4lbs.
A sigh slipped from her chapped lips as she pulled back the vinyl curtain to the shower. Rowan turned the water on, briefly letting it run. She grabbed the white towel from under the sink and pulled off her baggy clothes jotting the newest weight number down onto the notebook.
As Rowan showered, the unexplained weight loss seemed to ricochet through her mind. It'd been going on for weeks. Three weeks, twenty pounds.
Taylor was starting to notice it more. Her hip bones stuck out now, her rib cage more visible, even her breasts looked smaller.
Wrapping the towel around her body, Rowan stepped onto the cold floor, her bony feet slowly starting to match the color of the linoleum.
Taylor Goodwin knocked politely on the door before turning the handle and sticking his head through the door way. A small reassuring smile slipped across his lips as he eyed his fiancée in her white towel.
"Are you okay?" he asked, upon hearing her coughing fit failing to become relinquished.
Rowan shrugged, the brown hair still saturated with water seemed to let small beads hit the floor in a tat-tat-tat manner; these sounds being the only wavelengths being transmitted through their conversation.
"I've lost more weight." she told him, untangling the towel from her body and slipping her undergarments on.
Taylor watched her with interest. He sat on the toilet bowl lid, his ankles crossed and his elbow resting on the countertop. It was hard seeing her look suddenly so fragile and delicate. The way her knees stuck out a little bit more, her vertebras sticking out a little bit more; The bones on her shoulders becoming rather sharp and savage-like...Okay; Maybe a little bit of an over exaggeration. Taylor Goodwin was struggling to cope with his future's dramatic changes.
Rowan reached down to pick up the towel, another hoarse sound rattled through her tired body, as she bent over to continue her coughing fit, except this fit was different then the one before. Rowan's face began to turn red, her throat burned, her eyes watered as she continued to hack. Taylor was kneeling in front of her, his hands gripping her thighs, as she choked and sputtered in the small space between them. He'd grown accustom to talking her through the fits, his calm voice would prevent her from having an anxiety attack. (Which could lead to other problems that probably belong in a different story.)
Rowan regained her breath.
♠ ♠ ♠
I'm not really sure how long this is, I wrote it on le kindle. It's been sitting in my 'documents' file untouched for about well probably since October. I've written about eight drafts for this story. I finally have a clear idea where this is going and I've done enough research to make it accurate as possible, please correct me on my errors if you know of any. I am not posting any spoilers or anything similar of the sort yet. I don't think anyone reads these, but it's long for my personal satisfaction. Expect chapter two to be out really soon.cmnt&subs&rec.
Please tell me how much you hate it
xoxo aztekwarrior