While I work on the website (torture I tellz ya), here's a bit to keep ya busy. >}
He rises from the cold slab, burnt, decaying, crackling as the crust that was once soft, silky flesh breaks when he moves. The nurse takes a deep breath to scream out her horror, but she makes the big mistake of catching his eyes, still intact, still brighter than any violet stone set in metal. She lets her scream out in a rush of a sigh, her skin reddening and warming, lust overtaking nausea.
He ambles over to her, and she flattens herself against a wall, knocking something nondescript on the floor. His desire inflames hers and she shivers when his labored breath dances across her neck, though it gurgles from his nose.
“I will not take what is not freely given.” His voice jangles his vocal chords, and he speaks overly slow to make himself understood. “Will you give me what I need?”
She wants to, with all her being, she wants to give those eyes whatever they want. A face flashes though her mind, important but undetailed in the second it takes to pass and her head shakes in the negative in such a small degree, only he can tell she’s even done it.
“Very well.” He says, his mouth traveling away from her head entirely. He succumbs to his own weight, kneeling clumsily and taking her soft hand in his own to kiss a band on her left hand. When she sighs in disappointment, he says “Your loyalty to your man has saved your life tonight. Buy your man a flower when you return home. Place it on a tray with his breakfast when he wakes.”
When she gathers herself enough to look where those lips have touched her, he is gone.