She never wore a skirt, always a suit, those butt-hugging tailored pants. One morning I noticed the impeccability of her attire diminished: one button...too many of her crisp, starched white blouse left unfastened. I wondered what had delayed her, interrupted her clock-work punctuality and caused her to leave her home so dishevelled. I must have been staring; her scowl accused me, and I was guilty as charged. The draw of her cleavage was irresistible, achingly unobtainable.One time when I was. He walked to the couch and settled into the spot that she had just moved from, grinning when she cuddled up to him. She nuzzled his neck, then tipped her head towards the bed in invitation. ‘Still feel like a nap, babe?’ she asked. Even though he had just sat down, he stood up, then bent and lifted her off the couch, cradling her in his arms. When he got to the bed, she expected him to drop her down, but instead he gently placed her on the covers amidst the rose petals. The perfume of the. I crave it! I lust after your scar, okay?” I looked at him with shock-widened eyes, speechless, mouth wide agape. My head was spinning, unable to form any controlled thoughts, and my heart felt like bursting right through my chest. “Go ahead,” he went on, “call me sick, call me crazy, but I find that scar on your face really beautiful. And on top of that you're really nice, cute, smart, and I can see that beneath that insecure surface of yours there's someone joyous, and full of life, willing. After supper, he was going to sew up his own wound, which was only a surface scratch, even though it did bleed like a stuck pig. He also volunteered to sew up Nikon’s wound so that it would not get infected.I thought to Hippolyte, [This guy would be great to have in our group if he is any good at treating wounds.][Yes, that is a good point. He is currently unemployed, so he might be willing to join us, especially after what we did to that gang that raped and murdered his family.] “Agathon,.