Darling | A flash fiction story
43 of đź’Ż
Dawn’s hands hugged a warm cup of tea — a delicious blend of herbs, no caffeine — as she looked through the curved window that covered the entire wall. Down there, a paradoxical view: how could the neon signs and bright ads make Argon so dark?
Behind her, lying on a tall mattress, the most powerful woman in the entire city, her naked body wrapped in a black silk robe. Dawn was wearing the same kind of robe, the impossible texture caressing her skin.
She was already in love with all of it. The feeling of the warm, black wooden floor against the soles of the bare feet; The crimson wall behind the bed; The hidden lines of warm light that backlit everything, showering the room in a soft glow; The dark, sleek furniture; The silky perfume in the air.
She couldn’t, though. She shouldn’t let herself fall in love. Not with the woman who literally owned the city. This was not, obviously, a serious thing. Enjoy the night, girl, she told herself as she admired the view, property of Atlanta Incorporated. But don't fool yourself.
“Dr. Mirkowic,” Miss Atlanta called and Dawn’s legs melted. She loved that she called her “doctor”.
She turned to see the most powerful human being on the planet, her short, silver hair contrasting perfectly with the black of the robe, her body framed by the bed that seemed to float on a thin line of orange light. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Come to bed, darling.”
How could she not fool herself? “As you wish, Miss Atlanta.”
< Colors | Darling | Clever Boy >
