Trent

The Dirty

• Journal

  • An Angel of Temptation February 3rd 2018, 4:00 am

    
    
    
    
    It was like stepping right back into the late age of the 19th century. She didn't even know what would be paying her a visit tonight. I hadn't even been anticipating it. It was a scent in my nose that seems to be forever burned into my memory. It's not necessarily me that's drawn to her, but the entity which harbors a connection to the darkest depths of my being.
    
    It's something like polar ends of a magnet. This beast I'm connected with represents the South end of the magnet, while she and I both represent the North. So, like moth to a flame, I sought her out.
    
    She knew the moment I stepped into her office. She is...particularly sensitive to my energy. I've always known there's a malicious quality that follows me like a shadow. It comes from my counterpart, and one can practically taste it on the air. The poor woman which had delivered her vodka seemed to shrink in my presence. It's nothing new to me, even children tend to stray away from me. Not something I can control.
    
    And then there was her.
    
    
    
    I've always said women were my weakness. It never has been easy to tell them no. This one, however, might be the one that kills me one day. Our relationship is strictly business, as it ever has been. I can't afford close ties, but I would dare to call her something like a friend. She's drawn to me in a sense that's similar to the way in which I'm pulled to her. It's simply easy to sustain our less than human natures in the vicinity of one another.
    
    For as refreshing as it is to be within the company of someone which doesn't cower when they lock eyes with me, she makes it arduous. Even though I have found the population of this city to be increasingly brave, or perhaps just simply moronic. It's also particularly difficult to maintain a professional appearance when it comes to her, and it's never been hard to understand why.
    
    
    
    She made herself right at home. Tempted me, and did her very best entice me into the act of intimacy to sate a purely specific need. Not of the act itself, but of the transgression which gives her nourishment. I'm no fool to incessant hunger. That creature that lurks under my skin has an unstable appetite, and it would be so simple to lose myself to it's whims.
    
    However, I'm not about to be a victim to my own demon. I certainly won't allow her to be, either. Despite her display, I know her to be quite the sophisticated woman. If she wanted to feed off me, she could take the sins which I'd already committed earlier in the day to fill my own needs. I won't deny her that, but it's obnoxiously infuriating to have a drop dead gorgeous woman half naked in your lap. My mind might know the difference, but my body certainly doesn't give a damn.
    
    My mother taught me better than that, and sometimes I question my own upbringing. I really wanted to. Despite that uncertainty at times, Mother's lessons always win out in the end. I wouldn't let her sink her teeth into me for a meal, but she does have another method to feed which I certainly won't protest to.
    
    
    
    She wanted to walk out of her office half dressed. I couldn't let her do that, it wouldn't be becoming of her image. The world should see her as she is; elegant, confident, and dangerous. Yet, even after assisting in putting her dress back on, as she left that room I couldn't see anything but one thing.
    
    
    
    She is entertaining, to say the least. Keeps me on my toes, and challenges the gentleman my mother has shaped me into.
    
    As I've said, I think one day this woman might slay me.