She didn’t fit in, not one bit. Where the building was stately, she was modern. Where it w

She didn’t fit in, not one bit. Where the building was stately, she was modern. Where it was all grandiose halls and big doorways, she remained petite, self contained, cosy on a pair of legs. And where he wandered about in suits, she favoured fishnets and a thong.  And, quite frankly, that suited her just fine. She liked standing out, and although there was a tendency to feel uncomfortable, awkward, and perhaps a little incongruous, all of that was blasted away when she got to see the look on his face when she wandered into the living room in whatever obscene outfit she’d managed to conjure out of the wardrobe that day. She got to enjoy the building as an outsider, while he was very much of it. It was context that she remained clear of, despite having lived there for some time.  If she was going to be entirely truthful, part of it may have been a defence mechanism. It might have been because this way, like this, she could keep herself separate, and separate made separating that much easier, down the line. She was treating herself, and the situation, as a temporary state, something to be enjoyed, but something among which strings were most definitely not going to be tied down, attached, and forced to be broken at some point. Further than that, she wouldn’t admit it even to herself. She wouldn’t admit that she was afraid, and that she didn’t want to surrender herself entirely because that thought terrified her more than anything else. And that the root of that terror came out of the kind of want that would seem biblical if the bible was about sex and desire instead of musty old values. She kept herself separate because that way she didn’t have to give in. Because that was she could lie to herself that she hadn’t, already. She’d found her choice in clothes start to shift over the past week or so, though. She’d only noticed it yesterday, but she’d gone for socks instead of sockings, and a skirt instead of a garter belt. Somehow it was making her weird little masturbatory rebellion lessen, the wind rushing from its sails and leaving her with… what? Him. Sitting in that chair, reading that paper, in this stately, grandiose apartment. Her looking cute, but somehow, almost fitting in.  The thought terrified her. -- source link

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