Tainted Attraction

10/Picture Perfect Lives

 "Lightweights.The lot of them are lightweights," Kitt announced as she padded barefoot into the room we were sharing for the night. The hen night had long ended, but neither of us were ready for bed. Instead we were holed up in this room, attempting to be as quiet as possible continuing the party on our own. I knelt up, stretching for the plastic tumbler brimming with the last of the fruit cocktail and draining the cup quickly.

Kitt sighed, gazing out of the window across the room. There weren't any blinds to draw out the city lights, let alone tomorrows impending rising sun, but the view was breath-taking from the high rise. In the distance, we could make out the networking of London. The streets, the clusters of lights drawing out the busiest areas as well as the flight paths of the many connecting airports, planes were crisscrossing the sky with their flashing beams. Nothing epitomised London more than this view alone. It was a far cry from the alienation I'd rapidly grown accustomed to on the Isle.

Kitt turned her attention away from the city, and back to our sorry excuse of the party spread we had gathered on the mattress.

"It's not even light out, I bet her fiancés stag night ended better than this. If only we could have swapped teams."

"Well, that's slightly awkward seeing as we haven't met this Richard guy. And please, if he is marrying my sister, I doubt his stag would have been that lively." I reminded her.

"You're right, more like miserable he didn't make it out before it was too late." Kitt pondered a moment. "Still I at least expected to go out," she whined. "Or even a penis straw, everything tastes better with a penis straw."

"How would you know, when you've not even used one?"

Kitt shrugged. "But I've had a parrot straw in a cocktail in Mallorca last summer, and that was amazing."

"This whole night was probably Shelly just wanting to appear classy. You can't make as much of a statement of wealth in a club as you can be showing off the apartment." I pointed out.

"There's a big difference between being classy and being dragged to bed though. Shelly made a right mess of herself tonight. Not to mention this tacky theme. Although, I have to admit, we looked good. My expert taste I guess."

Kitt gestured to the slinky wrap that covered her body, loosely tied around her waist, gaping at her the cups of her breasts. Suddenly, I became all too aware of my own outfit. Gazing down, my cover-up had loosened, I had thought that the more alcohol I consumed the less I would care about what my body was saying. I was wrong. Subtly I adjusted myself, taking advantage of Kitt searching the desk in the corner of the room.

"I don't even know what this guy looks like? There's like no pictures of them together whatsoever."

"Is that what you are looking for over there?" I asked, curiosity now plaguing through me.

Rising from the bed, I joined Kitt over at the desk. It was obviously his, notes were plastered over the surface in a manly scrawl, much too messy for the perfectionist that I knew Shelly to be. This was his space, his only freedom to live. It was hard to believe he was a perfectionist, not in the way his notes were scrawled, I idly wondered whether this was an area of tension in the relationship. Shelly clearly liked things her way, did he just submit to her every whim. I couldn't imagine her being with anyone who didn't.

I found myself wondering about Grey, whether his big day was been and done, what colour his suit was. Having been subjected to endless wedding chatter non-stop today, I knew that Shelly's fiancéhad settled on a deep blue suit. Ironically, my imagination had always conjured up the image of Grey in a dusty grey colour, or maybe it was just his name forcing this image in my head.