Dernière danse (IV) [PG13+]

Just past the halfway point now guys! Sorry for the delay ^^

PART IV

If there was a single thing that I wished my illness hadn’t taken away, it would have been my energy.

I was always athletic. Not because I was gifted with a body that was made for sport, but because I had always felt the need to move, whether it be dance, gym, jogs or leisurely laps at the local pool. It was simple; I liked to move. I never really made much effort to shape or sculpt my body, but I would by lying if I said that during the peak of my athletic years, I had never looked in the mirror and admitted to myself that my body was attractive. I had. I was younger and vain. Sue me.

These days though, I treated mirrors much like you would an estranged friend turned acquaintance. Someone you once knew but you weren’t sure you knew anymore. I relationship of fake smiles and polite greetings, but no real warmth. That was the mirror and my reflection.

As I grew more ill, my stamina faded and toned muscles grew soft from disuse. It was so subtle and slow that I barely noticed until one day, I visited that stranger, the mirror and blinked at my own reflection; someone I didn’t want to recognize. I wasn’t naive enough to think that I was the only person who had ever looked in the mirror and felt that way, but it pained me that there was little I could do about it. I was just too ill, too weak and now, it was too late.

The smell of burning and smoke distracted me from my thoughts before they could turn more morbid. I half expected grey clouds to be wafting in from the kitchen where my supernatural date was attempting to cook me dinner.

Did they cook wherever Tiffany was from? Did they even eat? Had I made a terrible mistake letting Tiffany free reign in my kitchen?

Strangely, the smell left as fast as it had arrived, unnaturally so, and I opened my eyes to find Tiffany standing before me, only something about her had alarm bells ringing in my head. Yet one look and a few seconds later, the bells fell silent, overwhelmed by an unfamiliar wave of desire.

The flaming red hair was gone, replaced by glossy black locks that curled and danced around her neck line. Her top was black and sheer, basically transparent and failing to hide the similarly black undergarments beneath. Where the Tiffany previously had preferred light make up to highlight her fine features, this Tiffany wore dark, smokey make up, especially around her eyes. Her lips though, were the exception to the varying shades of black. Sinfully red and lusciously shiny, her beauty was unnatural, not that there had ever been anything remotely natural when it came to Tiffany’s looks.

I knew that Tiffany had the ability to change her appearance at will, but this was extreme, if only from my uneducated point of view.

It was the eyes that gave it away. I could feel my cheeks and ears glowing as Tiffany looked at me. The raw hunger in her eyes made my legs turn to jelly. Her eyes captivated mine and despite her obvious assets on display, there was no way I could look away.

In that moment, a part of me wondered if Tiffany had gotten bored of waiting. If she had grown too hungry. She was bound and governed by rules that I wasn’t privy too and couldn’t even hope to understand. Perhaps Death had called and told her there wasn’t any more time. That it had to be done.

Whatever, I was ready whenever she was, after all, it was I who had asked for death.

It was odd hearing the click of heels on floorboards. My parents had always been strict about wearing shoes in the house and it had become a habit I had taken with me when I had found my own place. I was more used to the muffled tone of skin or socks padding across the floor, and more recently, the thud of crutches.

As Tiffany strode towards me, I finally broke our gaze to take in the rest of her. Her one-piece ended mid thigh, much like to cocktail dresses that westerners were fond of wearing to clubs. The ones that barely covered their butt, left their legs on display and showed far more than it appeared to cover, especially when bending over. I should know; I used to love those outfits. On Tiffany though, the outfit basically screamed sex. One might say that it could be my mind on overload from not having got any for a while, which was true. But illness brought a lack of desire with it and as such, it was almost add feeling my need searing through my body.

But then again, this was Tiffany and there was no way anyone could ever resist Tiffany.

Then she was standing before me, eerily reminiscent of the first time we had met. But there was the oddest smile on her face. Her lips were still curled in that crooked smile that I had grown fond of, but her eyes, they were wide open and still openly gazing at me with ravenous hunger. It was odd, because I could distinctly remember her eyes curling into crescents when she had last smiled at me.

Something was very different but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what.

“Yuriiiiiii…” Tiffany practically purred.

“Y-yes?” I managed to squeak in response.

“It’s dinner time.”

And then Tiffany’s lips were on mine, but they weren’t soft and gentle as I had imagined them to be, based on the chaste pecks she had delivered to my cheek, hand and forehead. They were forceful and dominant and I could barely keep up. At the same time, a hand of my shoulder pressed me back into the mattress and I felt Tiffany settle herself in my lap. She was practically devouring me with her kiss and then I felt it. It was just the mildest trickle, but I felt something leaving me and going to her. My closed eyes flew open and I could feel Tiffany smile against my lips.

“Time to go, Yuri.”

Then, Tiffany burst through my open doorway, mittens covering both her hands and my favourite tattered apron around her waist. Her face was bare, her nostrils were flaring and this Tiffany was very, very angry. The Tiffany that was currently lip locked with me and straddling my lap, stopped and looked over to the other Tiffany with a smile.

“Hello Miyoung.”

“Sooyeon. Get out.”

It was at this point in time that my mind finally processed that there were indeed, two Tiffany’s in the room. Same face, same curves, but somehow I just knew which Tiffany was the one I had come to know and which one was… well… not Tiffany. But something had been taken from me, but I knew not what. All I knew was that a crippling weakness was sweeping through my body and as my eyes darted between one Tiffany to the other, my vision grew hazier.

Tiffany with an apron immediately dashed over to me, almost throwing the other Tiffany off my lap. She cupped my cheek with a hand, the other lightly slapping the other cheek.

“Stay with me Yuri.” she pleaded before turning around to face… herself.

Though my vision was hazy, I could still make out the feral look Tiffany was giving to her other self.

“What are you doing here,” Tiffany snarled, “…Sooyeon.”

And as if saying her name was the magic word, the illusion that was Tiffany shattered like glass. Where there once stood an identical Tiffany, suddenly stood a complete stranger. Gone were the high cheekbones and glossy dark hair. Instead, blonde locks and icy eyes greeted my vision.

“Why Miyoung!” Sooyeon replied pleasantly, “I was just… speeding up the process. You seemed to have gotten sidetracked. I didn’t realize that one wined and dined our food before, well, eating them.”

Tiffany, or was it Miyoung now, glared back, her eyes pitch black.

“Leave.” Tiffany growled between clenched teeth.

Sooyeon glided a finger sensually along her own lips before poking the tip between them, into her mouth.

“Mmmmm. She’s tasty. She looks like she’s got nothing left, but for some reason, she’s not so keen on dying anymore. A very interesting flavour, Youngie. How long have you been working on this one?”

With a yell, Tiffany flung herself at my uninvited guest, grabbing her by the neck and slamming her against the wall.

“I said,” Tiffany snarled, thrusting their foreheads together. “Leave.”

There was a bang, and that smell of burning and ash filled the air and suddenly, Sooyeon was no longer there. Tiffany continued to stare at the now vacant space for a few moments before whirling around to me.

“So, dinner?” She asked, as if a doppelganger appearing out of nowhere and jumping onto my lap was the most ordinary thing in the world.

If there was a single thing that had been made clear to me through Tiffany’s attempts to answer my questions regarding her world, it was that the human mind was not designed to be able to cope with the concepts of her own world. Or to put it simply, I passed out. Again.

~ ~ ~

Imposter Fany: http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dr-OSoMIB54/UjwQvjjVLjI/AAAAAAAB9V4/hmEKMzvPjVE/s1600/TNWxIKO.png
http://i2.minus.com/iVXJ1WLuUOhrQ.jpg

So hot X.x

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