Chapter Ten - In Love With You
Dell
I feel her juices flow as I shoot inside her. She comes at the same time as I do, then collapses on top of me. I am still inside her as she lays her head on my chest and listens quietly. Both of us are panting.
“Can you hear my heartbeat?” I ask.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Can you hear what it says, the name it takes?”
She nuzzles her head close to mine but doesn’t respond. “If you listen closely, you will hear your own name. I am in love with you, Cyrene.”
“I know,” she says.
“So…”
“So what?”
“So where do we go from here?”
“Don’t ruin the moment,” she admonishes, wiggling her body slightly, enjoying the feeling of my cock inside her.
I let her be. I understand that she is young and needs time. There is probably a lot going on in her life. About half an hour before sun breaks, I nudge her gently.
“We should get going, Cyrene.”
“Yeah, eh, okay,” she says and gets up. We get dressed, I shift back into my dragon and she climbs on again. As we reach the human world again, I feel her head against my back as she falls asleep. I don’t want to wake her, so I take her back to my home, tuck her into bed and fall asleep next to her. I feel myself already growing possessive about her and wrap my arm around her protectively as she sleeps.
***
When I wake up in the morning, she is gone again, leaving a bare outline on the bed. Did last night really happen or was it all a dream? I close my eyes, not wanting to wake up and find out the answer. But then my eyes wander toward the bedside table and I find a note scribbled in terrible handwriting.
“Dell,
Sorry, I have to go.
My show is today, my debut. You have the pass.
I will wait for you.
Cyr,
xoxoxo”
Her number is scribbled on the back of the note. So it was real, I think aloud, satisfied. I send her a message, telling her that I got her note and look forward to seeing her, but I get no response.
It is already afternoon by the time I get out of bed. I make myself lunch and watch TV till the evening, and then take a shower and get dressed. “Casual or formal?” I wonder and then go with the latter. I know it won’t matter to Cyrene, but I still put an effort to look dapper. After all, she is going to become a model now. I have no qualms about her success. I know she will make it in the field. It is a hotbed for her species: exotic, rare, wild, and free. As the clock strikes seven, I head out for her debut.
***
As I enter the hotel, I follow a series of turns till I finally end up at a red carpet buzzing with people that seem to be of a different breed. They are dressed flamboyantly, their hairstyles in ways that are bizarre and unique, like a motley crew from the future. I follow the line into an exclusive area and my eyes search for her on an exclusive red carpet filled with models, designers, actors and actresses, familiar and unfamiliar, new and old. But Cyrene is nowhere to be seen.
I wonder if she had a change of heart and whether or not she is going to come. I make my way into the area of the show early, scoring myself a seat in the first row, right in front of the ramp. A voice echoes through the speakers telling people to get seated that the show will begin as soon as they are all settled. There are projector screens on both sides of the ramp, displaying faces of known models wearing new designs, logos of designers and brands. The background is all dark, the ramp stark white against it. There are headlights fixed above the ramp, turned off.
Music blares in the speakers as the show is about to begin, then turns down to a soft hum as the lights go down, becoming softer. The headlights above the ramp turn on, the music picking up pace, booming through the speakers. And then I see her.
She is the first one to walk in. All eyes on her, on the new face. She walks confidently, strutting in high heels, wearing a blue dress made of net, the same material all over, half the design is see-through. As she walks, a small train trails behind her, puffed up. I can see her long beautiful legs as they step one in front of the other, stop, pose, then walk again.
She stops in front of me, at the end of the ramp, two or three feet away. Her head is cocked up, as usual. Her auburn hair all tied up in a tight chignon. Her lips are jutting out, dark red, too glossy and brimming heavy with indifference. Her eyes are painted glittery blue, her eyelids heavy with long fake lashes. But her green eyes are all natural. She doesn’t look at anyone as if everyone is beneath her. She is looking at something else, something beyond. Her body looks perfect, her big breasts held firmly in the tight dress. She is glittering in the lights, her eyes and her dress sparkling in the constant flashes of the cameras. Her expression is haughty, her face tight, her eyes filled with contempt.
She strikes a pose in front of me, pushing her sweet derriere to the side. Then she turns around and walks back. The crowd gawks, wanting to see more. A man or two with cameras lean out of their seats to get another photo, but she disappears in the smoke. The other models come and go, the cameras flash, but the enthusiasm of the crowd and the paparazzi isn’t the same. She raised the bar too high, nothing else came close; no one was good enough after her.
As the show nears its end, the lights on the ramp go down and a spotlight turns on, waiting for the showstopper. Then she steps into the light again. A few people clap awkwardly as the cameramen leap from their seats and the overhead camera zooms in on her.
She is wearing a stunning dress: a simple, black suede skirt falling to her knees; a golden belt at her waist. The top is sleeveless, made up of tiny diamonds and precious stones, held together by a sheer material. It is see-through, but the precious stones and diamonds shine with blinding light. Her hair now straight, puffed up. This time, she looks at people and smiles, getting the crowd to stand up and clap. Then the remaining models join her along with the designer, Erin Vam.