This is a new, fresh start for me. I will not be continuing Wicked, I cannot find out how to remove it, but this is my fresh start. Voting and feedback are wonderful; I thank you if you do one or both. This story has been stuck in my head for a while- the characters running back and forth throughout my brain. I'll stop babbling and let you read the story! Thank you for reading!
This story, its characters, settings and references are copyright to Inkwolf@Literotica.com. Reposts will not be tolerated without permission. References to any actual persons- living or dead and places are entirely coincidental.
An editor was not used so any mistakes are mine!
CHAPTER ONE
I was a woman trying to balance work and life at once. It was a difficult job. Being a forensic scientist, I occasionally had to work odd hours and see death regularly. I was not one of those forensic scientists who made other new techies run down to the morgue to get something from them, nor did I bother to use a Vicks when down there. Death was death, the dead persons usually couldn't help that they were once alive and when they died, their flesh rotted. It wasn't their fault they stank and their flesh changed color. I had a lab partner named Troy Robey who seemed nice, but was quiet, usually didn't talk. He just watched and did what you told him to. He had been there before I was and he was always respectful but quiet. Almost all of the women would do anything errand- wise to get a glance at Troy. He was powerful, didn't flaunt his quiet strength. Troy was about six feet and a half tall, with military short jet black hair and the most beautiful eyes. His eyes were pure, white- blue, with a ring of silver around the iris. They were a cold blue but a beautiful blue. His shoulders were wide and powerful; the tight muscle shirts he wore showed an outline of his mouthwatering looking abs and rippling biceps. I could never have him. Ever. I wasn't a woman he wouldn't dream of being with. I was five foot three and a half, curly caramel hair, very dark brown eyes, seventy five percent deaf in the low frequency range and I was trying to get rid of a growing fat roll. I always looked tired, didn't wear makeup, and wore running shoes. Compared to the other women in the office that he could have, I was a speck on his perfect shirt. Besides, he was already dating Sabrina, the office bitch. Sabrina had clawed her way to the top in the office, and let everyone know Troy was hers. *Especially* me because I worked with him. I recall an earlier conversation:
"He's mine. You can never have him, you ugly dumpy thing. Compared to me, you're nothing," Sabrina had said, looking me straight in the eye.
"Great, he's yours. You can have him. He's a mute and he can't use a microscope," I snippily replied.
"Good. I'm glad we're clear. You wear those hideous Asics, that freakin' North Carolina Zoo T-shirt and those ripped, paint stained jeans, and you'll be alone your whole life. At least I can wear a dress, put on some make up and heels," With that comment, she'd left. I knew I shouldn't have let that bitch get the upper hand on me, but I went home and cried. I was unsure of myself, shy, chubby. I didn't know how to get a man's attention- I never would. Sabrina was right. When a man looked at me, I blushed and looked away. I wish my backbone was stronger, maybe I could be a better person. That night, after I cried, I ate an entire tub of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. Cherry Garcia. I wanted to purge, but didn't, knowing that would just make it worse. I was lonely, frightened, had a low self- esteem, was seventy five percent deaf in the low frequency range and I didn't know what to do.
I was at work, focused on a brain sample under the microscope. Sabrina was in the lab, purring at Troy.
"You know what I want tonight, stud," Sabrina's voice dripped lethal honey.
