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Sarah stands up and walks toward the window. The lights of the city shining through the night illuminate her naked body, basking her curves in a blue electric light. And you can't help but love those moments when the light coming from the outside cisels and draws patterns on Sarah's body to the extend that for a while, you don't see your own body anymore but something else, glorious that belongs to Sarah and only her.
But you know how it's gonna end up and soon enough she turns from the window and picks up her clothes. She barely looks at you, just a glance, eyebrow arched as if she was waiting for you to say something. You keep quiet, you always do. You just cover your body with the blankets, sitting with your knees brought up against yourself in your bed. And you watch her leave, the both of you silent.
Sometimes you want to speak, reach toward her with something that is not violent or sexual, a gesture devoid of any purpose, there just for the sake of sharing something else with Sarah. Something in the way she looks at you tells you that she doesn't see anything in you. It hurts, everytime, no matter how hard you try to repress it, you just don't show it, knowing she would say it's ridiculous. You're but an obstacle, something she feels the need to control, and she's dealing with you her way, bringing you down everytime a little lower. You wonder if she knows what she does to you.
She probably does. This is Sarah Manning, she has her way with people just as you have yours with business. She is the heart where you are the mind.
And you find yourself wishing. Because only half of that is true.
You don't know why she keeps coming back. You think she sees a game in you. She takes a seat everytime she comes to you and watches : how low can she bend you, how much can she tame you. You wish you didn't let what you feel through the facade you learned to keep up over the years. But you don't fool anyone, let alone yourself. And Sarah is not coming back for you, she's coming back for what you can offer her. You know all too well that once it is all gone is the moment she has won the game.
And you are just doomed to lose. You can only last for a while.
You can't deny the fact that it all started as a game, both for you and her, players of equal level. But Sarah doesn't play by the rules, she plays with tricks and traps, when you work your perfect mechanical logic. You walk the warpath when she sneaks around, catching you unaware, and you know you've lost only once you hit the ground.
You have hit the ground. You're only digging deeper. And you were never equals to begin with.
Sarah has awaken something you thought you had lost amongst the ashes that burried your parents. She turned long cold embers into an aching fire you've painfully been trying to smother.
It has gotten out of control and you hate her for it.
Mostly you hate yourself. That way, of the two of you, at least someone is to blame who actually cares.
You hear the door of your appartment closing somewhere, and then only silence. Oddly enough, it's not that different from moments before. You fall back in your bed, the only clue of Sarah's presence here being her scent in the pillow next to you and the emptiness sneaking slowly inside of you. You feel the coldness of your appartement taking over again ; Sarah brought with her something chaotic amidst the lines and clear surface of your minimalist furnitures that is now gone. You realize then how dark the bedroom has become, as if time had all of a sudden taken back its course.
And you wait for your dreamless nights to be over.