With a taken wrist and a giggle to match, I follow you down this tediously drawn hallway. So many doors, each more dirty than the last. Which one shall it be? These hazel orbs blazed with innocence as you halt before a frame. Room 301, so far from the world this night. It started with a simple kiss, a tease and a well placed hand. This started something that was meant to be kept secret. The room was nothing more than a single for this couple. But there was no time for thoughts, as you embraced me with a passionate kiss. You displayed your masked romance as you unhooked my bra and forcefully pushed me against the wall.
But as you unclothed me and my head hits the pillow, my mind ravished the rest of the incident with worry. Does he care? That each time his tongue lashed at mine, I was choked with alcoholic remains. Will he remember? Every time his hand embarked over my camber body. Does he know my name? After each time he moans softly in my ear. Is this romance? Each time my being collides into the bed.
I begin to lose focus with each scream, every moan, and all of the stuttering breaths. Never did I think that the bed of angel wings and wax be portrayed in a hotel room. Nor did I wonder if my blood would be spilled for the first time upon them. Smearing the feathers and staining these sheets. These sheets of a hotel room! Oh! Why did you bring me here? This is not the romance I was promised! This is not love! I am shown as a whore before I lost my
chaste.
My focus returns and I press my arms out against your shoulders… but reach nothing. You have left already, years ago. And I, the whore of room 301, am left with what I have already lost and a mer memory.