Door banging open, cold woosh blooming into the steamy room.

In the bedroom curtains swirl and bloom as the outside wind blows.

She grabs the towel, half-wrapping it around her dripping body and looks sternly towards the open door. One hand reaches forward as she moves to push it closed. The other hand clutches the top of the towel while her arm pins it to her wet breasts, barely covering them.

Pale, slender fingers close around the red door’s edge. She swings it hard, hoping it will simply click closed — the fanned air flusters the towel away from her legs, her ass.

Cold pricks her flesh, raising small bumps.

As she turns the corner of her eye catches the movement, something black – low and fast. Reaction kicks before rational thought. The towel drops as she spins awkwardly. The door shudders when the boot connects, kicking it open…it bounces and swings while the darkness fills the frame. A gloved hand slams the door open, silencing it against the wall.

She draws breath, seemingly sucking the figure towards her. Absurdly she realized how small her bathroom was…filled with two figures. He must be a man, she thought. Big, broad.

The breath gathered into a scream, cut by a gloved backhand across the face. Vision blurred, knees buckled. The black leather-clad hands reached out and gathered her naked body, crumpling it into a forced embrace.

“don’t” she whispered.

Sharp blue eyes gazed down at her.

The voice was not soft.

“I will.”

tags: dark, fiction, experimental, bathroom, flesh, cold, flash, writing

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