20: Kill the Lights, Kiss My Eyes

                                    

                                          
"Empty hearts I can hear them talking
I close my eyes and I keep on stalking my love, my love
No one's aware of the hunger I feel
It's something you or time cannot heal
I need someone to help me rise above
Eternal bliss is something I can show you
Spread your arms and let my wings enfold you, my love, my love
In the darkness shades of crimson rapture
The world is ours alone to capture my love, my love"
-Spider and the Fly; London After Midnight 
Bob helped you with your hair on Saturday evening, curling it and brushing the curls out into loose, glamorous-looking waves. Unfortunately, since Monet was currently at the theatre and not available to help you, the two of you were on your own for makeup. 
You decided to go with a very clean, simple look, swiping mascara on carefully with your face inches from the little handheld compact mirror.
"Can you do my eyeliner?" Bob asked, wiping off the eyeliner she had already applied with a Q-tip. "I can't get my fucking wings even and it's pissing me off." 
You laughed, opening your eyes wide to swipe on a final coat of mascara. "Step into my office, Roberta." Bob was already sitting cross-legged next to you on her bed, and she scooted over, turning to face you and turning her face up expectantly, eyes closed.
You scoffed, reaching for the liquid eyeliner pen. It took you a couple tries, but you finally got her wings even, and you fanned her face with your hand to dry them before you let her open her eyes. 
She looked gorgeous, blush swiped across her round cheeks and her full lips painted red. She was wearing one of Monet's recital outfits, an off-the-shoulder royal blue jumpsuit with wide legs and a structured cut, and she hopped up off her bed to stare at herself in the mirror. 
"You look amazing, Bobby," you said, smacking your lips after painting on a red liquid lipstick. You were wearing red silk, Katya's color, an appropriately slutty outfit - you thought. It was tight and short, with sheer mesh panels on the bodice, long sleeves and a low, plunging neckline. You felt very exposed, but also deeply sexy, and the lacy red lingerie you wore underneath only made you feel sexier. 
Bob looked you up and down, slowly, cocking a brow as you stood up, slipping your feet into a pair of nude stilettos. "Girl, exactly what kind of event do you think we're going to?" She said, and you flipped her off, tottering into your room and spraying yourself with perfume, giving your reflection a final once-over before you heard the knock on the door. 
"Come in!" Bob yelled from her own room, and you heard the door swing open, heard Meatball's angry hiss and the click of heels on the hardwood. 
You turned just in time to see her at the doorway of your room. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, little glass eyeball earrings dangling from her earlobes and her blue eyes practically glowing from under a smokey eye. She was wearing one of her new Dolce suits, all sleek and black and perfectly tailored, a sheer white blouse and silky black tie and Louboutins and red lips, and you wanted to fucking lick her.
Katya smiled slowly as her eyes traveled over you, eyes going dark. "Is this slutty enough?" You teased, doing a little spin so she could see you from all angles without being asked. 
She jerked her chin, and you went to her obediently, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and letting her kiss you deeply, pour herself into you. Her touch was desperate, claiming, and a bit frantic.
God, you really had fucking missed her. Your bad mood disappeared instantly as you breathed in the scent of her Tom Ford cologne and her cigarettes and let yourself get lost in the taste of her, the feel of her arms around you and her body warm against yours. You were wet, too, but honestly, that wasn't anything new.