Oblivion's Return

yesterday, i dived back into a world of many years. a world shared with a longtime friend, j. she is every bit as skilled of a storyteller as she was in the past.

our friends and i returned to the world of oblivion, where the characters all lived together in a castle and had numerous adventures. realities were suspended for hours, as if we were indulging in a movie marathon. i will always treasure our times together...

anyway. drabble i've written is behind the cut.
nothing really... just flowing forward from my mood.

tasteless

over the past few months, she became a robot, nothing more than animated flesh and bone. she went through the motions of everyday life, but nothing fazed her; nothing seemed to reach her, nothing invoked any emotional response other than a steady indifference. he sensed this change in her and it both alarmed and displeased him, but he wasn't sure how to react. or what to do to cure whatever was ailing her.

"hey," he said from the doorway, "can i have a word?"

the dark-haired beauty glanced up from the book she was reading, her slender form curled up like a cat on the designer chesterfield in his study. nervousness flooded her system, as he rarely called her by her first name.

"you sound serious," she mused. she closed the book with a soft thud and sat up. "is something going on?"

he sat beside her. a silence ensued, one where he didn't know where to begin to voice his concerns.

"do you feel," he began, somewhat awkwardly, "that we've been attending too many parties?"

alarm bells sounded in her head. she was confused... was this care that he was showing for her? she pondered over his question for a moment, then shook her head. 

"no more than the regular amount."

"i see. i wondered if perhaps you've grown tired of them."

"not at all. i have a lot of fun."

she stared at his profile. his gaze was focused on the floor. her eyes traced over the dark hair cascading over his blue eyes, taking in his sharp jawline.

after a moment's pause--perhaps he was afraid of the answer he would receive-- he asked, "do you still miss them?"

"i don't." her response came quickly. "have i done something to make you feel that way? i don't talk in my sleep anymore, do i?"

"no."

"then what is it?"

"it's... that i feel like you've changed."

her gentle hands reached for his, taking his hands and guiding them onto her body. he met her gaze as she led his hand up her inner thigh. but her eyes seemed dull, even as she smiled and slid off the straps of her tank top.

"i'm the same as always, and you're my one and only. i'd do anything for you."

he gripped her hands tightly, letting out a sigh. he'd heard those same words countless times, from many beautiful women in the past. but to hear them from her lips seemed sad, even somewhat pitiful. 

to think that this was something he had, at one time, wanted.