woman has does not end up in my sex club dancing the way she is.
So what’s her story?
And, why do I care? It’s not the first time I’ve been curious about a woman. Definitely not the first time a woman has piqued my interest.
However…
She’s the first in a long, long time to spark that part of me that’s been locked away for years.
Lilly comes closer to me in her glides of grace and I get lost in the vision of her. Her movements draw me in and once again I feel it… that spark. It’s small but definitely there.
For a moment I stare on at her and take note of this feeling she creates inside me. In my thirty-six years, only one person has ever managed to reach that part of me. One person. One girl.
One girl who is no longer living. She chose it so.
Nothing has ever reminded me of the past until this woman.
I’ve purposely never allowed anything to stir that memory and I’ve certainly never allowed anyone to get as close to me as Amelia…
Amelia
That was her name. It still hurts to think her name, and I haven’t spoken her name since her death either. In some cultures, people don’t say the name of the dead when their gone. There are all sorts of reasons why. Whatever the reason, I get it. I understand it for the mere fact that it’s painful.
The fact that this woman, this dancer, should stir a memory of a girl I couldn’t save strikes me. I don’t know if it’s’ good or bad. I don’t think it can be good. How can it be. But something inside me is curious about her.
She continues in her procession toward me. I don’t think she can see me watching though. Even if she could, she’s so wrapped in the music that only it has her attention.
Closer she comes, and closer. Then the smoke and the lights fade out and I can’t see her anymore.
Everything goes dark, above and below us. The music stops and the room is pregnant with silence. It stays that way, bordering on to a full minute before a flicker of light appears before me and I see her.
I see her and she sees me and in that moment, I know why she reminds me of Amelia.
It’s the way she looks at me.
That look that actually sees me as the man and not who I am.
She’s looking at me and I can tell she’s not looking at me because I’m Christian Giordano. She’s looking past the name, and she can see me.
Crystal blue eyes cling to mine and for those few seconds she seems to drop her guard. The light of desire illuminates her eyes from deep within making them shimmer with the invitation to see into her soul.
I accept and attraction laces through me, heating my blood, stirring to life that secret part of me I locked away. Attraction radiates from me to her and I know she feels it too.
I can see it.
Then it’s like she suddenly remembers who I am, and she flinches as if someone just whispered the reminder into her ear. Wariness washes over her pretty face, but it comes with something else. Pain. It fills her eyes and comes with a plea that makes her look like she needs to be saved.
Her cheeks flush pink and I wish I could read more into what her expression is trying to tell me, but the lights brighten and the ball floats away. She moves with it, eyes still on me and the moment strikes me so deep I could still be looking at Amelia all over again.
Amelia on the edge of that cliff. Her shaking her head at me to stop me from trying to get to her, yet her eyes pleaded with me to save her.
Just like Amelia, Lilly disappears from my sight. The darkness comes swallowing the crystal ball and the music I’m used to fills the room.
The people resume hell and sin. Everything that is The Dark Odyssey awakens, bringing forth a wild dark fantasy before me, but… the memory of the angel burns a hole in my mind.
The warning comes to me to stay away from this doll. Those feelings she stirred… I don’t want them. It’s as simple as that. I don’t.
The past has taught me that sometimes you can’t save people and when you try sometimes you lose yourself.
Curiosity, however, claws through me spurred on by that ripple of that attraction I