Chocolates with Helen

The knock on the door comes only moments after you’ve finished tidying everything up and put on a fresh shirt. You pull it open, to reveal Helen, dressed in her finest, a lovely soft yellow gown that wouldn’t look out of place at a swanky Hamptons soiree.

“Lovely to see you, my dear Alex,” she says, curtsying slightly. “It’s been quite the day, and I have been looking forward to the wine and chocolates for a good many hours now.” She winks at your shocked expression, and drops the haughty facade, almost stumbling into the room over her heels. You catch her, and she rests there for a moment, head against your shoulders, before she rights herself.

“Hmm… should I lay off the wine? Nahh,” she says, looking around the room. “I see chocolates, but not the good stuff. Are you hiding it some place?”

You flush a little in embarrassment, shutting the door. “About that… I might not have had the time to actually pick up the wine,” you say, doing your best to look sorry. “But I do have chocolates!”

“I see,” she says, taking a seat on your bed. You sit on the chair by your desk, turning it to face her. Opening up the box, you pass it over to her, and she nibbles on one, closing her eyes.

“Delicious, simply sublime,” she says, putting on airs again.

“Just the right bitter notes,” you concur, biting into your own piece.

“A pity that there isn’t anything to pair it with, huh?” There’s a twinkle in her eyes as she opens them again. She finishes off the rest of the chocolate, licking her fingers afterwards. She does it slowly, sucking off the remainder of the sweet with an erotic air. You watch her as she does so, and she meets your eye, fully aware of what she’s doing. You’re tempted to say something, but the moment passes, and she hops off the bed, looking around your room.

“Bit of a plain place, isn’t it? No chandeliers, no scented candles, not even a single wine glass to be seen!”

“Oh quit it already,” you laugh. “It’s only plain because you can’t see the highlight of the room.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“You,” you say, rising from your chair.

“Huh. Not a very spectacular highlight, is it?” she says. Now what’s this? The self-roast somehow feels like a harder dig at you.

“Well, it’s only because she’s in a bit of a funk,” you say, and you regret the words as they leave your mouth.

“Yeeeah, wonder why,” she says. She sighs, expression softening as she sees your slightly hurt expression. ‘Sorry, it’s just been… a rough day. Some shit going on that I’d rather not talk about, but I was really looking forward to this, you know, just a chance to unwind in a perfect way with a good guy like you.”

“No, no, I dropped the ball,” you say. “Had some medical stuff to take care off, and I sort of ran out of time.”

“That’s no excuse,” she says, but her expression has softened again, and you find yourself relaxing despite everything. “So, tell me all the gory details. Are you going to be dead by the end of the week? Who should I invite to the funeral?”

You chuckle, and tell her a little more about all that’s transpired—leaving out the bits about how hot you think Janet is, of course. The conversation flows freely from there, and before you know it, nearly two hours have passed, and Helen bids you farewell.

The scent of her perfume lingers in the air after she leaves, and you shut your eyes, relaxing for a moment, before the rumbling of your stomach takes you back to the present. Shit, you’re hungry, and you need to get food in your system.

Helen +5