October 21, 2011

Sketch – Waking Up in the Enemy’s Bed

Filed under: Sketches — cnwood @ 8:57 am
Tags: , ,

Debra bolted upright, alone in the room with the vast firmness of his giant bed beneath her backside. A great deal of concentration was needed to shut out the images of Damon sleeping naked in this sizable sea of blank linen.

Soft sheets snagged against the loose material of her white jumpsuit. A silk duvet cover of teal, black, and silver had been hastily pulled to the foot of the bed in a dark swirling heap.

The bedroom was spacious, twice as long as it was wide, with walls painted a soothing deep teal, trimmed in black with exquisite crown moldings. Solid colored fabrics, metals, and lacquered pieces of finely crafted wood picked up the teal, black, and silver theme in the elegant furnishings and draperies. Paintings dominated clean walls or highlighted tucked away corners and small alcoves.

The smell of fresh cut flowers and sparkling crystal pulled Debra’s eye around the well-tended room. Suddenly, the far wall had her doing a double take. Beyond the foot of the bed hung a stunning full-length portrait of herself.

Debra rolled to her knees, alarmed yet equally baffled. The clothing and background of the painting were completely unfamiliar. As was any memory of posing for an artist. She judged herself to be no more than eighteen in the portrait, standing, slightly turned away, as if looking back over her shoulder at someone.

Not just someone, she thought dryly, but a lover, judging by the affectionate gaze in the wide brown eyes and the look of sensual pleasure in the small satisfied smile that touched the full lips.

The woman in the painting was a fantasy, an illusion of femininity and a lover’s perception. A characteristic Debra did not share. Call for a warrior or a skillful strategist and she was unmatched among humans. The only time she had ever felt like a woman was in the dream world.

Beside, needing another made you vulnerable. Made you take stupid chances.

Kalon’s lies came to mind. And Damon’s cold-hearted manipulating of her mind. Debra glanced at the portrait once more as she stepped from the rumpled bed. The blue killing power arced gently between her fingers.

One by one she shut her emotions down, clearing her mind, and refocused on the need to discover how this underwater city was connected to her, to the dream world, and to Edith.

Time enough later to settle old scores.


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