𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐭.
(n.) the euphoria you experience when
you first fall in love.

[ remember the feeling, this is the
moment you stop being the rabbit. ]

[ alright, let's see what my heart can do. ]

[ 47 whiskey bottles & saturday nights. ]

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𝗥 𝗔 𝗕 𝗕 𝗜 𝗧 𝗛 𝗢 𝗟 𝗘

___________

Saturday Morning, 23rd November, 6:00 a.m. ;

the first light of dawn breaks through
the slats of my bedroom blinds.

The cool and crisp sheets of my bed caress my naked body, pulsating an eerie sensation that stings a shiver across my spine. I stretch languidly - feeling my muscles contract and ripple, before I throw off the covers of my bedsheets and paddle over to the mirror.

I pause for a moment,
taking in my reflection.

I remember my name being 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑.
A runway model, I'm 28 years old, a degree in Computer Engineering.

------

My blonde hair cascade down my back in loose waves like a curtain,
framing a face that is at once beautiful and terrifying to me, a face that is my own.
My eyes which a clear, piercing green, seem to bore into my very soul
As I regard myself with a feeling of both disgust & fascination.

I gaze at my lips, all full and pouty, stained an
abysmal shade of crimson from the expensive lipstick
I applied before going to bed.

I find my body toned and sculpted, an impeccable result of hours
spent at the gym and through my strict diet regimen.

I am, in a word, perfect.

But perfection is a fickle thing, and I know that I must maintain my appearance at all costs.
And so without further ado, I begin my morning routine.

I start by cleansing my face with a gentle foaming cleanser.
The bubbles lather up and dance across my skin, leaving it feeling soft and supple.
I rinse away the residue with a splash of cold water, feeling the icy droplets sting against my skin and awaken my senses. Next comes a toner and a heavy moisturizer, both of which are designed exclusively to keep my skin looking young and fresh. I take a moment to massage the cream into my face, feeling the tender flesh yield and mold to my touch.

Next, I move on to my hair. I run a wide-toothed comb through the golden strands, detangling any knots - ensuring that each lock is perfectly smooth. I then gather my hair up into a tight ponytail - securing it with a velvet elastic. Lastly, I survey my handiwork in the mirror, pleased with the sleek & severe look I have achieved.

Now it is time to attend to my body.
I step into the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade down my form.
I reach for the loofah and some body wash, before lathering up and scrubbing away any impurities that may have accumulated on my flesh during the night.

I pay particular attention to my breasts, cupping them
in my hands and massaging the firm flesh.

I close my eyes and imagine
the hands of a lover,
caressing and teasing me in all the right ways.

But I'm not one for idle fantasies. Quickly shaking off the languorous mood - I rinse off the soap and step out of the shower, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel. I pat my skin dry, taking care not to rub roughly. I then apply a scented lotion to my limbs, reveling my aura in the luxurious feel of the cream as it sinks into my skin.

Finally, it was time to dress. I slip into a form-fitting dress, one that embraces my curves and compliments my features. The fabric I wore is a rich, alluring material, an elegant shade of midnight blue that sets off my eyes to perfection. I pair this with a silk blouse, placing the collar
neatly framing my décolletage.I add a few pieces of jewelery, each one chosen with care and precision. A diamond bracelet glitters across my wrist,
while a pair of pearl earrings dangle from my earlobes.

I take one last look in the mirror, suffocated pleasingly with the image I see before me.

I am the epitome of feminine grace and beauty, a vision of perfection that would leave any man weak in the knees.

------

Fuck that, nobody deserves my love. I'm a slave of my own religion.

And with that thought in mind, I gather up my things and head out into hell.