Tracy

If anybody has read this, please be kind! This is my very first submission, and I'm not too sure if it's worth reading. Don't you just love self-pity? :D So yeah! I'm also hoping to find an editor... I know that this isn't a huge cliffhanger or anything, but woot! --By the way, there is no sex in this part—

--Lise

*

Tracy moved quickly across the street. She didn't look at anybody; didn't pay attention to anybody. They all avoided her warpath, wondering why such a gentle looking girl was so introspectively angry. She charged down to the nearest pharmacy. Searching for lightbulbs. She'd been living in the dark for too long. Six months since she's had lights in her room.

Earlier, she had had to leave her own home because yet again, her roommate had given her the look and was now fucking her boyfriend. Again. Normally Tracy could endure her roommate's mood swings. Karen was fun. And whenever her boyfriend would sneak over, Tracy rubbed her clit to the moaning and slapping of Karen and her latest boy-toy.

Now as Tracy was charging down the street, she smacked into a brick wall.

Ouch, ouch, ouch!

She screamed in her head as she sprawled on the ground. Her long, golden brown hair was strewn crazily about her, and her simple t-shirt had risen up to her belly button. She peered up to the brick wall to discover it was some sort of man. He knelt down, his hands hovering about her; unsure of what to do. He apologized, but she could only stare up at him. He was gorgeous. From what it felt like, he was muscled and tall. His midnight black hair was tussled, as if he had just rolled out of bed. But the first thing she fixated on was his bright, blue eyes. They zapped right into her, looking as if he had her all figured out.

Tracy's cheeks quickly reddened and she began to nervously fuss about. She ran a hand through her hair; an awful habit of hers to get rid of the long strands that flicked into her face. And with the deepened color of her cheeks, she realized her shirt had ridden up. Oh great, now he's seen my jiggles, she thought, horrified. His murmured apologies quickly trailed off as he watched her smooth herself out and quickly jump up.

He couldn't help himself, but he watched her chest as she bounced up. She was tall, but her frame was small. Despite this, her breasts were large. Very, very large. He felt a slight tingling in his pants, so he cleared his throat and straightened up. He wiped his hands on his legs, and watched as she wrung her hands together. They were so small and dainty! All in all, she was beautiful... And she was babbling nonsense to him.

"I-I'm really sorry about that. I wasn't looking at where I was going..." She looked up at him, her dark eyes pleading. As soon as she met his eyes, they flicked away in embarrassment. He smiled and silenced her with a word of apology.

"Maybe I can make it up to you with dinner?" He gave her a lopsided grin, his eyes amused. He tried to convey the cheesiness of the line.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she seemed to get more flustered. He was no longer paying attention to what she was saying; it was much more fun to watch her hands flail and clasp together as she babbled on. She kept running her hand through her hair, and at the end of her monologue, she put her hand to her forehead. He chuckled to himself.

"I'm Aidan," he inserted.

Tracy's eyes gently drifted down his body, resting on his arms. She'd always had a weakness for hands. She hated those clammy, chubby hands that some men had. He didn't. His fingers were long and slightly bony; his arms flexing and loosening. His hands had some calluses and strong. Oh, she needed a bib.

When she finally dragged her eyes back up to his face -- not after a languid trip up and down his beautiful legs -- she realized that he had been watching her! His blue eyes darkened, watching her with a fearsome intensity. Her face darkened a couple more shades and stammered through her name.

"Tracy," he repeated, savoring the name on his lips. His eyes questioned hers. She hadn't answered his proposal to dinner.

Before Tracy could even begin to answer, her leg began to tingle. Her eyes widened in a quick brain-fart. If I'm attracted to him, shouldn't something other than my leg tingle? As she gave him a slight look of a deer in headlights, she realized it was her cell phone. Oh duh, she smacked herself mentally. It was Karen.

A look of dread washed over Tracy's face; Karen just broke up with what's-his-face. Tracy could never keep track; their faces and names ran together. Well, it wasn't quite Karen breaking up with Cory. Cory did... something. Karen was blubbering too much for Tracy to understand.

"Hun, stay put, okay? Listen, I'm going to grab you some ice cre—yes, of course the chocolate. I'll get all the basics, and I'll be home soon. You'll be alright, just breathe." Tracy rambled on, eventually ending the conversation.

Aidan watched Tracy, concerned and appreciative. She was sweet for one thing. Her dark, kind eyes were so worried and sympathetic. When Tracy apologized and nearly ran away from him, his hand jabbed out and snatched her arm.

"You forgot to give me your number." He murmured lowly.

A chill passed down Tracy's spine. Oh my god, he was delicious. She grabbed his outstretched cell phone and keyed in her phone number. She hustled away in a cute little trot. How he wished he could have watched her run towards him; those beautiful breasts bouncing. He stifled himself and walked away.

Tracy arrived home. It was quite a beautiful place, really. The house was a pale blue with white finishing's and a white roof. There was a small backyard with a Weeping Willow. There were two floors and it was a cute, little house. She loved living there: even if the garden was a little wild. And the fact that she couldn't afford a car, so she had to walk everywhere and take the bus to work was a little annoying. But it kept her legs nice and muscular and it did keep her toned and happy.

It kept her male co-workers happy as well. Whenever she arrived at work, her hair was always mussed and her face vibrant and fresh. So as Tracy finally walked in, Karen was a mess. She was crying and screaming. Karen, being a bite-sized, blonde hair-blue eyed dealy was never used to rejection. One look at her short, lithe body turned most men into horny old dogs. From what Tracy could determine, Karen was a very submissive sex kitten. She would scream and moan and mutter some very obscene things; things that teenage boys live to hear.

So Karen was yelling and throwing away a few lingerie pieces. "...How could he?! Nobody dumps Karen Whitmore! Nobody! I am the one to dump people! I should've dumped Cory. He had the tiniest prick and he was an awful fuck! WHO WOULD FUCK HIM BESIDES ME? I was charitable," And the rampage kept going.

Tracy eventually calmed her down. They watched movies, throwing countless pillows at the television when they disagreed with the characters and ate their weights in ice cream. Tracy didn't even attempt to bring up Aidan. The whole escapade ended with Karen asleep on the couch.

Tracy stretched and slowly moved upstairs. She had to re-read another submission for work. As an editor, she was feeling a tad stretched thin; she had to review so many samples of potential books. She loved reading, but she eventually had to narrow the manuscripts down. Tomorrow morning, she had to meet with a new author; his book was very beautiful.