Centuries of Sin (Mature)

  Elizabeth woke to the sound of her alarm clock blaring beside her. It was seven in the morning, but she had only fallen asleep at half past four and now she had to force herself to get up so she could work. Rolling over, she slapped the top of the old alarm clock to stop the loud incessant bleeping. “Ugh, alright! I’m getting up!” She protested out loud as if the clock would some how understand. She sat up, stretching her arms above her head before finally and begrudgingly stepping out of bed. She shed her clothes on the way to the bathroom so that she was nude by the time she reached the shower, leaning in and twisting the tap so the old thing would sputter to life. It sprayed her with a jet of ice cold water and she took a sharp intake of breath. The same thing happened every damn morning but she hadn’t got the money to get it looked at and the minor inconvenience helped to wake her up anyway. After giving it a few moments to heat up she stepped into the shower, relaxing a little as she washed herself with the lavender and lilac scented soap she was particularly fond of. She coated her long auburn hair with shea butter conditioner, and allowed her mind to wander a little as the conditioner soaked in. She was a writer by trade – she used to take freelance jobs for a local paper on the side, but she had published several true crime novels and the rising popularity of the genre meant she made enough from royalties that she could pay rent on her modest apartment through those most of the time now. She decided that she would go to the local coffee shop to work today – she had been unproductive for the past week and working from home could be isolating when she wasn’t engrossed in a project. Spinning in her office chair and browsing the internet under the guise of doing research was mind-numbing at times. She was just done rinsing her hair when the sound of her mobile rang in the bedroom. “I’m on the way, hold on!” She shouted through to the bedroom as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. She spoke to inanimate objects like this more when she’d been working at home for a while and realising what she’d done finalised her decision to work at the coffee shop. She was going stir crazy at home all the time. The phone rang out before she could reach it, but picking it up she saw it was her agent. Hesitating for a moment, her fingers hovered over the button to call him back. But just as she was about to put the phone down, it started to ring again. “Hello, Mike.” “Lizzy! I hope you’re doing well,” it was a platitude that she knew better than to answer. He didn’t care, he wasn’t her friend and this wasn’t a social call. She was late delivering an outline for her next book. “Listen, I hate to be a pain but we need to know when you’ll have that outline for us.” She sighed. She didn’t mean for it to be audible, she didn’t even mean to do it at all. “I know things have been hard for you recently. If it was up to me I would give you another couple of months…” “…. But it isn’t, and you won’t,” she interrupted him at last, unwilling and unable to let him carry on acting as though he was a friend. “Well, I didn’t want to be so blunt, but you’re right. We can’t keep waiting much longer. You’re a very talented writer, and we’re proud to represent you. But if you can’t get that outline to us by the end of the week, we’re going to have to let you go.” “Alright. I’ll have it to you by Friday.” “Friday? That’s great, I’m really excited to read this I bet you’ve got some GREAT ideas…” “… yeah, well. I’ve got to go, Mike. I’ve got an outline to finish.” And with that, she hung up. She wasn’t lying – she did have an outline to finish. But she couldn’t keep him on the phone any longer knowing she hadn’t even started the damn thing. “Fuck.” She threw the phone on the bed beside her and threw on an outfit. Black jeans, an old T-Shirt with a 1950s horror film poster on the front and a pair of high top sneakers. With her hair still wet and no make up on she rushed herself out of the house with only a wallet, notebook, and pen – she was going to do this the old fashioned way so she couldn’t get side tracked. The coffee shop was only a ten minute walk from her apartment, and she used to go there a lot. But she hadn’t been for a few months now – depression had been making things hard to cope with and she had isolated herself half in an attempt to get work done and half to avoid contact with the outside world. Pushing open the door she put on a cheery voice. “Good morning Laura!” But the young student who had been working at the coffee shop for the last three years now wasn’t there.  In her place was a tall attractive man closer in age to Elizabeth’s 26 years. She blushed when she made eye contact with him, though she had no idea why – she wasn’t normally self-conscious or shy around attractive men. But he wasn’t just attractive. He looked almost otherworldly. His skin was lightly tanned, complimenting his neatly groomed dark brown hair. He was muscular underneath the tight black T-shirt he was wearing with dark blue jeans. But it was his eyes that she couldn’t get over – they were hypnotic. An incredible shade of amber she had never seen before. “I … uh…I’m…” She couldn’t get out any comprehendible words and she blushed even harder, almost turning and running from the shop as though she were a thirteen year old again. “Sawyer,” he smiled and her heart raced a little faster. “If you want to try that again?” Elizabeth was still frozen and it felt as though time had frozen. Each excruciatingly embarrassing second felt like an eternity as she looked deep into his eyes without saying a word. “Lizzy!” At the sound of her name she finally tore her eyes away from his. It was Laura, thank f**k. “You’ve not been here for a couple of months – I guess you’ve not met my lovely new co-worker yet. This is …” “…Sawyer. Yeah I … I heard.” He smiled again and she felt her cheeks burning red. He turned away from her to do something with the big chrome coffee machine. She could see he was doing nothing more than fiddle aimlessly with it but she was grateful to him for it. “The usual?” Laura asked. “No!” She almost shouted it, embarrassed for some reason for Sawyer to see her ‘usual’ was the deluxe hot chocolate with whipped cream and extra marshmallows. “I’ll have a…” her mind raced through drinks, trying to pick the most sophisticated grown up drink, “…a chai latte?” It came out sounding like a question and she added quickly “with oat milk.” She hurriedly set the money for the drink on the counter and retreated to her usual seat in the corner of the little shop. Hoping she was out of sight while they were making her drink, she mentally chastised herself for acting like a lovesick puppy over this guy. This wasn’t like her, she must really have been alone for too long. She set her notebook on the table and turned to a fresh page. She looked up to see Sawyer in front of her table, holding the drink. It startled her – she hadn’t seen him approaching her. “Thank you.” She reached out to take the drink from him. But as she looked into his mesmerising amber eyes again she was overcome by some kind of vision. She felt his hands running over her body. She saw his eyes burning into her own as his soft skin and warm muscular body pressed against her own. He back was pressed against her bedroom wall and her legs were wrapped around his waist. She heard a moan escape her lips and realised she had made the noise aloud. Sawyer leaned closer to her, whispering in a husky voice so that only she could hear. “You’re welcome.”