Acrasia

Birthday Wishes.

I followed her to her apartment, still invisible, and watched as she hurriedly got dressed. She slipped into a black velvet dress and curled the ends of her hair, pinning the top half up haphazardly. It was all I could do not to touch her body as that velvet dress inked down her body and over her luscious curves. She tugged tendrils loose around her face, and perfected her makeup. Dark greens and blacks lined her eyes, and a flesh pink on her lips and cheeks. Her dark brows full and arched. A splatter of freckles and a tiny birthmark stun atop her nose and cheekbones. It's her birthday. I rummaged her thoughts. She's meeting a boyfriend for dinner.

This stirs a weird emotion in me. She doesn't even know I'm here, but I feel ignored. The thought crosses my mind to splatter her dress in bleach or trip her on the stairs, but I refrain. I don't know what I need her for after all. She spritzes cheap perfume as she leaves. I notice everything she owns is cheap or seems second hand. I intend to pick her mind tonight and learn more.

Her tummy growls as she descends the stairs in her jade heels. She exits her apartment complex and heads across the street to another. Heads turn to admire or judge as she briskly passes. Her excitment grows as she nears the building. She almost floats up the steps to the second floor. She runs her nervous hands on her dress as she nears her intended door. I smirk. She's so oblivious, in her human senses that she can't sense what I do. She will soon though.

The last apartment on the floor. We are here my little emerald gem. Are you ready? She stops by the door, heartbeat fluctuating as muffled moans emanate from the otherside of door. She looks both ways then sticks her ear to the door. She knocks angrily. No answer. She pulls out her phone to find a video of the police doing a raid. She plays it, on full blast and holds it to the door ss she knocks.

"Police! Police. Open up. Come out with your hands up." I silently chuckle at her ingenuity. I can hear the frabtic shuffling of clothes and feet inside. The door flies open and the man gaped in horror. The girl looks past him, to the brunette on the couch, in only his shirt. Lust and anger fill the air and I revel in the mix.

"Sera. Sera. I can explain..." She laughs at him and turns away.

"Don't bother. It's self explanatory. I'm going home." He grabs her arm and drags her back.

"You aren't going anywhere. You will stand right here until you hear me out." Her arm is twisted unnaturally and she whines. The woman on the couch smirks and struts to the door by him.

"He wants to tell you it's over. He's upgraded from your dusty ass girl. As you can clearly see, we were in the middle of something." Sera opens her mouth to speak and the girl slaps her. She roars with rage and dives onto the bimbo, attacking her with a ferocity I never imagined she had in her. She slams her head off the floor and doesn't blink when the girl scratches and claws. The girls face is bloody. The man grabs her off the woman and punches her in her face. Her nose cracks and she bolts up and runs.

"Seraphine! Don't call the cops! I'm sorry. She-she tricked me. I don't want her...I never meant..." He stops and starts throwing his fit in the hall behind us, kicking and punching the halls. "Goddamn it Sera! I don't owe you an explanation. You get your sorry ass back here and speak to me. Fine. Fine! We aren't going out tonight now. Happy? I'll take Trinity. You can go home and starve. I bet your broke ass is out of ramen. Go hungry whore!"

"I'd rather starve. Fuck you Justin! Fuck Trevor or whomever your friend is too." We are back into the street and Sera is crying quietly so nobody will notice as we pass. Her stomach still growls, but she dismisses it. She dashes across the street, not looking and horns blare. She goes up to her apartment and locks the door, scooting a decrepit looking dining chair infront of it for good measure. She makes quick work of treating her nose.