The Red Dress

     They were supposed to go out for supper. They had reservations at 8. He called her from the office and told her to be ready when he picks her up at 7:30. And she was. From the moment he accidentally woke her up that morning gently kissing her forehead goodbye, she opened her eyes and couldn't stop thinking about him as she watched him leave the room from her side of the bed. She was ready alright. She's been ready all day. She was just standing there. On the balcony overlooking the city. Up on the 43rd floor where all is within her reach and sight. Yet she focused on one point. All her energy was flowing through her eyes just as the wind flowed through her hair. The corner of the street where he always turns to get to the building's valet. Despite everything going on, all the noise around her, she could hear the tics of the clock in the living room louder than she could hear her own thoughts. Her heart beating in sync with every second passing. Waiting for him to make that left turn and appear. Waiting patiently from the heaven where she felt she stood. 

 

     He had taken a different route. He knew exactly where she was and where her eyes were pointed at. He entered the garage from the back of the building and parked the car in his reserved spot. He opened the door taking in a deep breath of relief. It had been a long day and he was finally home. Well... almost. He took the empty elevator. Stood there in his tailored suit. One hand in his pocket and the other slightly raised looking at his watch. It read 7:32. The ride to his floor seemed much longer than usual. Tic... Tic... Tic... He was so deep in his thoughts he didn't even notice the dreadful elevator music that he so profoundly hates. The tics of his watch and his beating heart were the only symphony he had to accompany him on his journey to the top. Finally the doors opened.

 

     Suddenly the wind stopped and a warm yet shivering feeling climbed up her spine. Her heart starting to beat faster and faster. She knew he was close. She could feel him. It takes exactly 26 steps for him to reach their apartment from the elevator. With each step she could smell his odor increase in intensity. It filled her lungs and her veins. As he got to the door, slowly taking out his keys as to not make a sound. He could feel her presence and in anticipation aimed his gaze at the balcony even before he turned the handle. He wanted his eyes to reach for nothing other than her beauty. He wanted her to be the first and only thing he saw. As the handle turned, it's like everything in the apartment vanished into thin air. The door opened slowly and a wave of transparency took over the rooms. He stepped inside and closed the door even slower. Without a single sound. And he just stood there. Hands by his side, he stood dead in his tracks and starred at her as if it was the first time he had ever laid eyes on her. 

 

     She knew precisely where he was. Although every fiber of her body wanting to turn around, run towards him and jump into his arms, she stayed. She kept her ground even though she was aching his warmth. He took his steps towards her with caution and diligence - as if approaching a bomb. In some ways she was exactly that. It's not to say that he wasn't going to implode himself. He's been holding it together since he felt her forehead pressing against his lips that morning. The toughest part of his day, every day, is when he has to let go of her and get out of the comfort of her cordiality. He thrives for the moment he reaches that door. Like a gladiator rushing through a stampede of beasts. No beast, no distraction can prevent this knight from not slaying the despair of being away from her. Because at the end of each battle, only she can heal his wounds.  

 

     He stops at the balcony door. Continuing to see none but her. Inhaling her aura yet breath taken by her beauty. The long red dress she wore was much, much more than a simple outfit. It was the dress she uses to poke the bear. It was the dress she knows to wake up the animal within him. It was the dress he bought her for their first date. It was the dress he bought her for their first anniversary as a couple. The dress he bought her for their engagement party. The dress he bought her for their honeymoon and several other occasions beyond that. Before leaving for work that morning he had placed this new one on the white living room sofa. A single red rose placed over it - a signature of his. 

 

     It was the dress he had bought her over and over and over again because once he had her - wearing that dress -  in his arms he would tear it off her flesh. He would forget all rational sense of zippers and buttons. His bare hands, his teeth, the occasional knife. Those were his only tools. No argument, no words, no thoughts of any kind could take him away from ripping that dress off her silky smooth skin and having his way with her. She loved that dress. She loved what it turned him into. They have always had the most intimate and memorable nights, but none like the ones in which that dress was in the picture. Not once was that dress worn and did it survive the night. Nor the hour. Never. And it never will. 

 

     With the faintest smirk on her face she keeps looking towards the horizon and says: "You're late." He laughs quietly and approaches her. Her hands and knees start to shake slightly as she feels the ground beneath her move with every step he takes. He puts his hands on her waist. Kisses her shoulder gently, without a verbal response. He kisses her neck, still no answer. Nibbles at her ear as he slides his hands over her stomach and hugs her tight. Burying his nose in her hair he took it all in. The intoxicating sent that he longs for sets his nervous system into overdrive. He rests his head on her shoulder, he whispers in her ear as he feels her hands gripping his firmly, "I cancelled the reservation." 

 

     She turns around to face him. Grabs him by the sides of the neck. Their bodies pressed against each other tight and his torso leans in as to bend her ever so slightly backwards on the edge of the balcony. She looks deep into his eyes. Far enough to see into his soul and whispers back "You're so predictable." While speaking those words she got closer and closer to him, still grabbing his neck. By the end of her sentence she was millimeters from his lips. She was hungry. Very hungry. And her hunger only grew once she took a bite of his lip. She bit hard. She hurt him but he never flinched. He loved it. As if the sight of that dress on her wasn't already enough. Every animalistic sense in his body went through the roof. He pulled her hair back until her teeth slid off his now slightly bleeding lip. He grabbed her with his other hand by the neck and chocked her gently but tightly. She gasped for air and that's when he kissed her. 

 

     It was an intense, deep kiss. Rough but passionate. Soft but affirmative. Her whole body shook. Her toes went numb and her legs felt weak. Goosebumps filled the surface of her skin. She felt as if she was struck by a hundred thousand volts and every last one wouldn't leave her body. She wrapped a hand around his tie and pulled at it. Bringing him even closer. Returning the kiss with even more authority. She was a powerful woman that was capable of astonishing things. She pushed him back. She pushed him onto the balcony's glass door. With their eyes locked she took her steps towards him slowly. The sound of her heels echoing around them. He had the look of a lion before it pounced at its pray. She caressed his hair from the back of his head with one hand and the other found its way onto the side of his neck. This time giving him one long, slow, scratch with her nails gently scraping his skin. She comes closer. Rests her hands and body on his chest. Looks straight at his little love wound and licks a single drop of blood off the outline of his lip. 

 

     The animal unleashes from within. Bruce Banner is no longer. The hulk has emerged. He picks her up. Swiping her off her feet. The bedroom is his clear destination. He lays her on their bed and looks around the room. Candles lit everywhere. The rose he had left her that morning now by her nightstand next to their wedding picture. She listens to his breathing as he evaluates the surroundings. "You really knew I had cancelled." he said with a hint of surprise. "You never make it out the door when I'm wearing this." she said with a smile. He took to her neck making his way down to her legs. Kissing her body from over the dress, he says goodbye once more. With one strike he tears it up from the bottom to mid-thigh. With his hands and teeth he turns the torn piece of silk into several strips. Ties her hands together and then to the headboard. Kisses her forehead and blindfolds her. He kisses her once more then whispers in her ear, "Happy anniversary my love..." 

Author's Note

Would love to know what you guys think!?