Maintaining Appearances
As David’s key turned in the lock after work, I was draping his last T-shirt into the wardrobe. The drawer appeared impeccably ordered. He slipped off his shoes. "What’s for dinner?" he asked, tone casually normal. Back turned, I steadied my voice: "There’s pork ribs in the fridge—stewed with winter melon." He nodded and headed to wash up. Closing the door, I leaned against the cool wood, inhaling deeply and silently. All day, I had rehearsed this veneer of calm. My nails dug into my palms, sharp and stinging.
Piercing Gaze
At dinner, steam rose from the simmering rib stew. Sipping soup, I watched David from the corner of my eye: his manner of eating, the sound of chewing—once mundane, now laden with suspicion. My focus locked on his hands as they lifted chopsticks. Had those hands... touched that garment? The thought slithered coldly down my spine. Oblivious, he served me a rib. "Eat more," he urged, "you’re too thin." Staring at the meat, appetite vanished. His concern felt like a blunt knife.
Nighttime Unease
Bedtime came. David slid beneath his covers smoothly. I lingered before settling an arm’s length away. In darkness, my senses sharpened unnaturally. His breath warmed my ear as he turned toward me. What once felt comforting now sent shivers rippling down my spine. That drawer, those pink panties... just steps away. Rigid and immobile, I endured nights of torment before breaking.
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As David’s key turned in the lock after work, I was draping his last T-shirt into the wardrobe. The drawer appeared impeccably ordered. He slipped off his shoes. "What’s for dinner?" he asked, tone casually normal. Back turned, I steadied my voice: "There’s pork ribs in the fridge—stewed with winter melon." He nodded and headed to wash up. Closing the door, I leaned against the cool wood, inhaling deeply and silently. All day, I had rehearsed this veneer of calm. My nails dug into my palms, sharp and stinging.
Piercing Gaze
At dinner, steam rose from the simmering rib stew. Sipping soup, I watched David from the corner of my eye: his manner of eating, the sound of chewing—once mundane, now laden with suspicion. My focus locked on his hands as they lifted chopsticks. Had those hands... touched that garment? The thought slithered coldly down my spine. Oblivious, he served me a rib. "Eat more," he urged, "you’re too thin." Staring at the meat, appetite vanished. His concern felt like a blunt knife.
Nighttime Unease
Bedtime came. David slid beneath his covers smoothly. I lingered before settling an arm’s length away. In darkness, my senses sharpened unnaturally. His breath warmed my ear as he turned toward me. What once felt comforting now sent shivers rippling down my spine. That drawer, those pink panties... just steps away. Rigid and immobile, I endured nights of torment before breaking.
NEXT >>
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