Title: “Perhaps a fantasy.”
Author: Yours Truly!
Word Count: 604
Rating: PG-13, to be on the safe side.
Author’s Notes: I wasn’t sure about the word limit, because I know it got changed a few times. Hope this is okay! Also, this is written (again) in first person. I’m doing a lot of experimenting with this type of writing. Constructive criticism would be appreciated; I finished this at midnight last night. Life is crazy :). Bring on the next challenge!
It was a dream, or perhaps a fantasy. That was the only possible explanation, the only plausible reason why her warm body was curled against mine. It had to be.
She stirred in her sleep, pressing her cheek into my shoulder. The mop of dark hair blended perfectly with the leather of my coat; the delicate fingers splayed across my chest, their ivory tone not an unpleasant contrast. I swore under my breath. Viewing her as a woman was not an option. She was nothing to me but an assignment, nothing but twelve thousand dollars in my bank account. Wasn’t she? I shook off the question and studied my surroundings for the hundredth time.
The airport terminal bustled with refugees fleeing the impending disaster in Peru. From my secluded corner, I could see the faces of those boarding. All of them were traced with fear and desperation. It meant nothing to me. Only that I had to wait three more hours for an available flight, and that disposing of this woman before then would be nearly impossible. Such a bothersome inconvenience.
I groaned. She had shifted again. Ignoring the hot breath feathering across my neck was becoming ever more difficult. What was I to do? I couldn't afford moving her until it reached departure time, the risk that she would wake was far too great. The pill box contained nothing but air. Another bothersome inconvenience.
I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand the sweet scent floating up from her hair, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. My chair was suddenly uncomfortable. There had to be a way to dispose of her, and soon. Self-control was not one of my strong points.
A thought crept into my mind. The poison. Why hadn't I thought of that before? A simple injection while she was asleep. It would save me an enormous amount of time and effort. My mind, cold and trained, quickly produced the most efficient method. Her body could be left in the corner when my flight arrived, curled to appear as though she was resting. I could be thousands of miles away before anything was noticed. The aura of fear surrounding Peru would prove most useful to me.
Even as my fingers drained the tiny vial into the syringe, my body rebelled. Why was I having second thoughts? She was nothing but an assignment! I glanced down at her face, annoyed. It was a mistake. Her eyes, the bewitching blue eyes that had struck me with lightening only two days before were wide open, locked on mine.
The drugs were still clouding her head. I wondered vaguely if they were affecting me as well; I couldn't seem to think. And then...I will never be able to explain with any certainty what followed. Only that the needle imbedded itself deep into her arm. Only that my lips crushed to hers with a passion that I would be hard pressed to replace. Only that I boarded a plane three hours later, alone.
The patchwork of farms and dirt trails marking South America would do little to impress me. My thoughts wandered elsewhere. Strange, that one kiss could do so much to affect me. Her scent still lingered on my coat, her soft moan replayed over and over in my ears.
I glanced at the small slip of paper in my hand. “Tajikistan. Asia. Sophia Henson.” My destination was confirmed. Another assignment. I found myself wondering what she would be like, and caught myself. But what did it matter? This was nothing but a dream, or perhaps a fantasy. It had to be.