Post by Carmella Blackheart on Jan 28, 2011 18:40:24 GMT -5
Beams of sunlight peeked through the blinds overlooking Carmella Blackheart's bed. Her current home was a posh penthouse apartment in New York City. She had many houses, but this, amid mansions and townhouses she owned, was the one she considered her "home". In the heart of the city, in the middle of it all, this was her haven. Her place of peace. The sun woke her up minutes before her alarm clock did. It was a rare day of sunshine during this cold, bitter winter in New York.
She threw the cover off of her, lifting her naked body up from it's cushioned slumber and sat on the edge. She lifted her arms up and back behind her head, yawning as she stretches out her muscles...feeling the relaxing release of air in her lungs. Then Carmella turns around to look at the other side of the bed, and the hulk of a man sleeping calmly in it. She smiles, thinking of how peaceful he is. She knows all too well of his tormented, violent history, and to see him there, at peace of his own, warms her heart. She leaned over him and gave him the softest of kisses on his lips, then finally arose fully from the bed.
Carmella's bare feet walked across the soft carpeting to the bathroom now. She would get a shower in and start to get ready for another day of work. Moments after turning it on, she stepped into her shower and slid the screen door close. Let the warm jets of water soothe her muscles for a moment, she reached for her bodywash and started to lather. Her hands and the pouf in it running it's course across her entire body until her bare hand touched it.
She paused for a moment and looked down to her stomach.
There, right underneath her belly button, tracking almost down to her waistline was this slightly raised, faint line of skin. One would commonly call it a "scar", it had all the implications of one aside from the fact that it was so thin that only she could see it, as could anyone who ever got close enough to her "special place". Even more than seeing it though, was feeling it. Carmella was never ashamed of her body, in fact, she was proud of her natural curves and her toned, physical form. Her tan colored skin and natural red hair and green eyes were like a physical anomaly.
But the scar was the exception, especially when she had no idea where exactly it came from.
There was a time back when she was young when she was completely defiant of her totalitarian father. She did things to anger him, even if it meant some physical consequence to her. In her young age, she was not the purest of minds. It didn't help that she blossomed early as well. She learned that these physical gifts she'd been given could be used to manipulate men. So she did just that, and it irked him to no end.
This lead to some intense and emotional moments in her family. And physical. She remembered pain. Intense, never ending pain. She knew it would come, but she had no idea it would be that excruciating. She remembered being rushed to a hospital, or at least it looked like one...and then...
...nothing.
She woke up and it was all gone. All gone, but the scar. The scar that lay on her body to this day that represented some kind of void. Something that she can't remember, even as hard as she tries to.
Carmella sighs deep and dips her head into that jet of shower water. Maybe it would wash away these incoherent thoughts troubling her.
She reaches for a towel. Drying her body off she looks at herself in the mirror. Wiping away the fog that came up from the steam of the shower, she looks at the scar again, and sighs. She doesn't speak. Simply covers herself up with the towel and sits in front of her vanity, getting herself prepared for another day.
She threw the cover off of her, lifting her naked body up from it's cushioned slumber and sat on the edge. She lifted her arms up and back behind her head, yawning as she stretches out her muscles...feeling the relaxing release of air in her lungs. Then Carmella turns around to look at the other side of the bed, and the hulk of a man sleeping calmly in it. She smiles, thinking of how peaceful he is. She knows all too well of his tormented, violent history, and to see him there, at peace of his own, warms her heart. She leaned over him and gave him the softest of kisses on his lips, then finally arose fully from the bed.
Carmella's bare feet walked across the soft carpeting to the bathroom now. She would get a shower in and start to get ready for another day of work. Moments after turning it on, she stepped into her shower and slid the screen door close. Let the warm jets of water soothe her muscles for a moment, she reached for her bodywash and started to lather. Her hands and the pouf in it running it's course across her entire body until her bare hand touched it.
She paused for a moment and looked down to her stomach.
There, right underneath her belly button, tracking almost down to her waistline was this slightly raised, faint line of skin. One would commonly call it a "scar", it had all the implications of one aside from the fact that it was so thin that only she could see it, as could anyone who ever got close enough to her "special place". Even more than seeing it though, was feeling it. Carmella was never ashamed of her body, in fact, she was proud of her natural curves and her toned, physical form. Her tan colored skin and natural red hair and green eyes were like a physical anomaly.
But the scar was the exception, especially when she had no idea where exactly it came from.
There was a time back when she was young when she was completely defiant of her totalitarian father. She did things to anger him, even if it meant some physical consequence to her. In her young age, she was not the purest of minds. It didn't help that she blossomed early as well. She learned that these physical gifts she'd been given could be used to manipulate men. So she did just that, and it irked him to no end.
This lead to some intense and emotional moments in her family. And physical. She remembered pain. Intense, never ending pain. She knew it would come, but she had no idea it would be that excruciating. She remembered being rushed to a hospital, or at least it looked like one...and then...
...nothing.
She woke up and it was all gone. All gone, but the scar. The scar that lay on her body to this day that represented some kind of void. Something that she can't remember, even as hard as she tries to.
Carmella sighs deep and dips her head into that jet of shower water. Maybe it would wash away these incoherent thoughts troubling her.
She reaches for a towel. Drying her body off she looks at herself in the mirror. Wiping away the fog that came up from the steam of the shower, she looks at the scar again, and sighs. She doesn't speak. Simply covers herself up with the towel and sits in front of her vanity, getting herself prepared for another day.
