[Alonsua]

That caprice.

She meandered famished. It was not hunger that drove her but the desire to cheat a prey, to feel her prey convulsing and shrinking in agony as the tiny spark of hope vanished.

And it happened again. Another prey arose from the dance floor and went emboldened toward her, or maybe even convinced? Yes. There was a lot of clumsiness in the prey. And some cruelty in the huntress. I could feel it. And anyway she was clearly attentive, watching me.

I pretended to be distracted and the prey vanished following the indications of a contemptuous gesture and an imperious hand that ordered it with the accompaniment of a sardonic laugh that, despite the intentions, was like music to the ears.

That had been one more of her rudeness. She was a genius. Yes. And she was beautiful. But she was also a sadistic one. And callous. Very callous. I recalled her body, naked, above me, looking for me while her precious eyes met mine. I could not consent it. I lent her my lab coat and apologized for having stumbled even though everything had been orchestrated by her from the beginning.

Did it really happen? I seemed self-absorbed, deranged, with the same stupid gesture of curiosity as the other times. I could not get rid of those eyes, those lips, her sarcastic laugh. I could not take my mind off the terrible action that I had seen her consummate only a few days ago and that, without a doubt, had been her wildest one.

While I watched that nobody noticed, I cleaned everything very well. I was used to it. There were not even dust particles on the bed or the sofa. I had to recognize it, I cleaned very well, and what a speed. In addition, it was a pleasant novelty that my partner was not there to let me have a sermon for doing things too quickly.

Maybe, deep down, I was not angry at all. Maybe I was just grateful to be able to leave to forget that caprice as soon as possible. That girl who skipped on me and, asking me? Demanding me, what?

Excerpts from Adam Sepherd's diary.