Modest Smouldering

The lights flickered, in some unknown rave pattern.

The music blared, making a pattern of indiscernible content. Riley didn't care; she was in the middle of snogging a skinny broad. The bleach blond bitch was straight, or so she'd claimed, before downing a few E pills. Blondie was all but straight at this moment, writhing against Riley's braless chest. Riley hooted, her primal noises drowned wholly out by the music in the basement. She could feel Blondie's hot, stale breath, wafting all over her bare skin. Parts of her would tingle at the other girl's hasty touch.

She spotted Blondie's companions, and backed in to the crowd before they could reach her. Blondie looked pretty upset at being interrupted/losing Riley's pliable body. Nethers nonetheless on fire, Riley wiped her mouth, and made her way towards the exit.

Cool night greeted her burning skin. Her sweat quickly absorbed the cold, making her break out in slight shivers. She pulled a cigarette out of a cheap metal case; lighting one up, Blondie joined her. Blondie had prolly taken something else, too, along with the E: all of her words were disjointed and stilted. She put her hands over Riley's belly, beseeching her to come back to the party. Backing away again, Riley lit the cigarette.

"Y'know, you're gunna start pissing me off soon," she told the stoned slut.

Riley started thinking of that passionate kiss Blondie had laid on her initially. Oh fuck, was that ever potent! Riley's nethers reacted with some warm tingling. It died as soon as she thought of Mary.

Dear, sweet Mary, all alone, at home.

Mary, the roommate; Mary: unattainable. Riley winced, blowing out a plume of smoke. Rain started sprinkling down in the alley. She ruffled her cropped head. Took another drag, just for good measure.

"Look," Riley said, in a low voice. "I ain't up for this bullshit, kid."

Blondie advanced, clucking disapprovingly. "I love ya, man," she said.

"Sure you do. Just like anyone else around here, hopped on drugs, wanting some hugs."

"No, really," Blondie insisted. "You're really special…"

"Dude; you don't even know my name."

"Well. You could tell me."

Riley flicked the spent cigarette down in to the dark. Wandering away, she headed for Mary's suite.

She thought back to her letter to Mary, while Blondie muttered in the background; Blondie soon faded in to a dull burble. Down the dim streets, Riley's own words came back to haunt her:

"Gimme a chance; you know I've been there for you, all these years…"

"Every time I see you crying, I want to love those kisses away…"

It was all a load of bullshit. All the sweet sentiments that poured forth from her aching heart meant a load of jack-shit compared to all the feelings that roiled within her, all over Mary.

Sad ol' Mary, all alone, at home.

Riley snorted, hoarking out some snot. The rain began to fall harder. She sneezed, wishing in vain for a sweater.

She reached her street. No second thoughts this time: she would march up to Mary's room, and tell her upfront what she thought; friendship be damned. Letter be forgotten. Sometimes love had to conquer, right? Or, Riley thought, a little amused by the thought: sometimes love is so persistent that it destroys everything it touches. Would Mary understand her plight? Would Mary agree with her line of reasoning, or, even, return the affection Riley held? Would they have a rocky time of things? Could Mary even see Riley in that light? Would she? Would she want to?

All of the delirious wanting rose within her mind, overtaking her senses. A tumor of frustration blocked her willpower.

She stood outside her home, looking in at a lit window, wondering if Mary was waiting inside.

Mellow Mary, all alone, at home.