Wednesday 21 January 2015

Nerves that feel like velvet when touched.

So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down
I'll never wear your broken crown
I took the road and I fucked it all away
Now in this twilight, how dare you speak of grace
There were boxes and boxes of the most beautiful lingerie. Cashmere underpants in gentle hues of warm brown, pale blue and sage green. Periwinkle velvet camisoles and stockings. The absolute cutest selection of forest green ribbed woolen underpants I have ever seen. I've never seen material like that for underwear before. It's a little stretchy on these tiny boyshorts. Very soft, fine fabrics. Silk and woolen stockings in sweet pastels. Some greys, lilacs, pinks, cream, skyblues and ocean teals, along with olive, burnt orange even, but absolutely no black. More velvet. The most delicate covered buttons and boning on a dark rose velvet corset that I've ever seen. With matching pink underwear with ruffles and satin ribbon edging and clips. Heirloom-quality. This is a dream.

My first two initials embroidered delicately on the top edge of everything: BR.

These are bespoke and unreturnable. I had everything made to measure.

Amazing. I push him away so hard. I ignore his requests, threats and even the pleas and I am rewarded. I don't understand him. Most people would get the hint and give up. He goes shopping because surely he can buy whatever it is that I'm made of. Five weeks without touching me and he loses his goddamned mind.

I expected to show up today and be flung off the cliff by my head.

What do you think? His hands slide around my waist. He's right behind me, pulling me back against him until I can press my head against his chest and feel his chin on my head. He sighs.

Why do you do these things, Diabhal?

Because I can, and because you get endless hives from lesser fabrics, and if I recall the last time I watched you dress, the elastic of the pair you had on was ruined and they sagged off your cute little ass. I'd rather you had good pieces to wear.  

Why these colors? 

They look best on you.

To whom do they do that?

Me. 

I thought you liked black and grey. 

My brother's been gone for almost nine years now, Neamhchiontach. I want to see colors again.