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"Action!"
I can’t stop consuming her, grabbing anywhere that I think might hold the key to her skin so I can unlock her and climb inside. I settle for bracketing her throat, and she whimpers as I squeeze. I fixate on the idea of taking her air permanently, nobody else ever having a chance to be in her orbit at all.
She sways slightly, so I pull back a touch, just in time to hear Blanche yell, “Cut,” and exclaim her pleasure at the scene. Our shroud is pulled back, and we blink into the light as the overheads are turned back on.
"Darlings, I have never seen such a display. The passion, the obsession! And pulling down the fabric! We were lucky with the backlighting, but it’s so sensual. Inspired, really, and to think, I was originally going to have that gaudy, awful church as the setting…”
She trails off, realizing that neither Lucy nor I is paying her any attention. We’re still caught in each other’s gaze, her lips red and swollen, my chest heaving. Blanche’s eyes dart back and forth, and I see her unfortunate understanding of the situation before turning on my heel and leaving the room.
Whatever she thinks she sees, she’s wrong. It’s acting.
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