Worlds Apart

22. Carnations

I pulled the red cocktail dress over my head and let it slip over my body. It was a stretchable fabric but looked like silk. It looked tight once settled against my curves and tiny frame. The dress went just above my knees, revealing some of my thigh, which Mads enjoyed. The clevage was minimal as it was a loose crew neck.

I slipped into a pair of black leather open toed pumps which showed off my red nail polish.

My hair was in loose curls, brushed back and out of my face. My makeup was minimal, some blush, mascara, and bold red lipstick. The look came together within thirty minutes.

As I finished touching up the bold red lipstick with a glossy finish, I found myself staring at the mirror.
The butterflies in my stomach were flying in circles so much so that I was becoming dizzy.

How many timea have I done this? Put on makeup, whether minimal or maximum. Put on a tight dress with heels. Forced a smile that was painful. Mads wasn't going to show me off like Josh did, he wouldn't talk behind my back and tell his friends lies. I could never forget hearing him talk about me to several collegues of his at a party, the way he used me through words was sickening. "She's a screamer, thats for sure," Josh would say. "Bitch can never shut up," he'd laugh.

Taking in deep soothing breaths didn't seem to make a dent. The air became thick and humid almost as if a fog rolled in. The memories came with it.

The smell of his cologne, musky, sickening. The feeling of him towering over me as tears rolled down my face. "Take off your dress, now!" He yelled. The fear consuming me as I obeyed his everyword.

"Elsker," Mads called from the bedroom, taking me out of my horrible reverie.

"Y-y-yea?" My voice cracking as the fear begins to disipate.

I could hear his footsteps already approaching the bathroom with determination.

My hands tighten on the edge of the counter. My head burning with memories of all the times in which I had dolled myself up.

"You rea-" he begins as he walks into the bathroom.

His eyes move from my head to my toe, stopping at my breasts and hips. His eyes grew dark with lust. Swallowing hard he shifts his tie in an attempt to come back from his thoughts. He continues to stare for another minute until he is forced to adjust himself on his slacks.

"You look...fuck..." he says trailing off with disbelief.

I smile at his reaction, enjoying his lustful stares. He has to adjust his tie again, making it looser.

"I don't think you'll need the tie," I say chuckling.

"What?... oh... the tie... um... yea..."
He stutters like a teenage boy seeing his prom date for the first time, the idea of sex overwhelming him.

"Maybe we should stay home," he suggests.

"No! We can't cancel just because you can't keep it in your pants," I scold.

"It's not my fault! You look so fucking beautiful..."

He stalks closer towards me, coming into the lit bathroom, allowing me to see him completely. His shirt was maroon, matching my dress. The sleeves were not rolled up but instead buttoned at his wrists. His tie was black, now undone and hanging around his neck. His slacks were his normal attire, black and fitting. His dress shoes were black and leather like always. His hair combed back.

He looked better than ever yet he was still recovering from his pneumonia. Letting out coughs every so often, his breathing wheezing. It was like he was dying.