The red lights blinded you as you sank into the soft mattress. Next to you, your hands brushed against another person's fingers. Her vision blurred, her breathing became heavy. You couldn't see her figure well. Her lips parted in a small shiver of pleasure as her eyes were trained on the person who was now towering over you - The same person who had suggested you act out such an obscene fantasy -. And she laughed. She laughed satisfied at that situation as if she were enjoying a show of which only she was the spectator. Of watching another person be consumed by lust, by guilt, by fear. She liked to notice how eros took everything away. A sense of bewilderment invaded you all and Ellie kept her arms pointed at the sides of your face, lowering her gaze to your meeting point. She didn't look at your face once. Her lips were stiff and her fingers planted strong on the mattress, focusing solely on releasing all her frustration.

Ellie: Goddamn, you look good in this lighting.

And you felt that strange feeling of helplessness in your chest, in which you had tried everything to free yourself from the emptiness that made your chest burn, as well as the pain of loneliness. And it had worked for a while. The momentary pleasure had erased all your worries. You clung to her arms as if they were a lifeline. You caressed her fingers and Ellie looked at you as if she was willing to release you from your pain. But the truth was that you had become nothing more than the walking dead, holding onto someone else's shoulders, causing their decisions to become yours. Her lips bit down on your neck, leaving marks on it. And when she was done she removed herself from the bed, leaving you with nothing. She gave you a quick kiss on the lips and stood back up, ready to take a hot shower. You sat down. Tears began to stream down your face and the woman next to you lay down on her side, stroking the velvet sheet, with a serious expression.

Jasmine: Try not to expect too much, sweetie. She sees both as a toy.