Anastasia
In Greek, "nostalgia" literally means "the pain from an old wound". It's a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone. It is a time machine. It goes backward and forward. It takes us to a place we ache to go again.
One of the strangest things about living is that there is only the now, but we all seem to be wrapped up in the past and wandering aimlessly in the present, yet always wondering about the future.
I brushed another light stroke of wet paint over the white canvas. My hand started trembling again as it always did when I thought of her. Every time I tried to finish the portrait, emotions would come rushing through my veins like the black ink over the whiteness of a thin paper.
Overwhelmed by past memories, my mind lost its focus. I dropped the paintbrush on the floor with a frustrated sigh. Her gorgeous brown eyes were too vivid in my mind, yet all my skills couldn't bring them to life.
Since what happened back in Russia, I found myself roaming from city to city. But even if I could go as far as the end of the earth, I still couldn't escape the nostalgia.
"Why are you still up, Your Highness?" a feminine voice said from the bed.
I turned around to look at the naked girl smiling sweetly at me. Another girl next to her was also staring with her bright violet eyes. Their seductive smiles shone through the darkness of the room.
I walked over to the liquor table and reached for a wine bottle. I didn't bother to pour it into the glass and just drank the burning red juice straight from the bottle. The wine tasted sweet against my tongue.
One of the girls with dark flowing hair rose from the bed and floated towards me. The other one did the same. All bare and desperate for my attention.
"Please, come back to bed with us," the girl with brown hair spoke softly. The brown-haired one was my favorite. Each came to my sides and stroked my arms sensually.
I kept swallowing my drink and closed my eyes. Alcohol and sex were two things I relied on to kill the pain. They kept my mind off things, at least for a short while.
I took another gulp of wine and then turned to the dark hair girl.
"Kneel," I said.
The girl quickly obeyed and got down to her knees. Without further instruction, her tiny delicate hands worked their ways over my pants.
I put the wine bottle down and turned to the second girl and pulled her by the back of her head a bit roughly. Her face flushed, already anticipating my touch. I finally pressed my wet lips against her waiting mouth and devoured her in a deep hard kiss. She moaned excitedly in my hand.
I felt a warm slithering tongue of the girl kneeling on the floor. My pants were undone. My private was exposed. I looked down and grabbed a fistful the girl's silky hair, guiding her clever tongue to where I needed most. The other one kept nuzzling my neck and stroking my breasts.
I sighed in contentment and leaned my head back.
That was all I needed for now.
Flowing hair cascaded on the sheets like lapping waves of silk, perfect cat-like brown eyes fluttered under my kisses as I trailed them from her elegant neck to her porcelain cheek. Her silken nightgown felt like water over the curves, but the heat from my nakedness spilled through the bed like lava. This was the lovely warmth we could produce when we made love.
Her perfect maroon lips were begging to be kissed, devoured even, and I yearned to suckle her warm lips in that same passionate touch.
I was stronger, but the girl beneath me made every bone in my body weak. So much more powerful as she laced our fingers together and pierced our souls into one.
We tasted and caressed, feeling intoxicated by love and pleasure all at once.
"You're beautiful, Avery," I whispered huskily in her ear, lost in a daze. "All of you, everything."
I wanted to see that beauty contort under me, melt through my kisses and tremble from my needs.
"And so are you," she said breathlessly back, "You'll have all I can give you, my perfect love, my precious... Alexandra."
The word echoed in my ears like I was inside a huge bell. Then I woke up with a start. My heart drummed in my chest. Suddenly, I felt ashamed, ashamed and frustrated with the stupid lucid dream of my former love. I couldn't take it anymore.
"Afterall these years, Anastasia," I sighed to myself. "Why can't I forget her?"
