Doggart Press!

The sensation stopped giving him pleasure the moment he realized what was going on. She was standing next to him. The night was elegant. The evening was put on to give him a showing. He was a new sensation, an amazing talent that they were all beginning to revere. She stood next to him for his first time in front of that crowd. The adoration he was receiving was overwhelming, and he adored it. Life was more then he could have ever wished for. He remembered how he used to reflect with her about whether what he was going to embark on was going to worsen his fall, his decent into sin. He remembered her laughing at him. She was something that he never had, a beauty, willing to forgo all the pain on the planet for a tiny ounce of that good old-fashion, wholesome, innovative vibrant, new, fun and satisfaction. She was something he had never known could really exist, he was only a pup. He wasn't ready and he didn't know how to use her, so she did what she knew, she taught him to use up life, live, the only way she ever knew. "What do you think God would say about us?" he asked, she was wearing all the cloths he mentioned he liked in the letters. She looked at him, she was an absolute, she meant everything to him, he was stupid she though when she said "There is no God that thinks about you." He believed her, she made him happy and he began to see past the purpose he was so focused on. "You've stolen my soul" he told her, she laughed. It was funny to her "You know" she said "Wouldn't have been the first." He believed her, she was beautiful. The sensation would always stop the moment she realized that he liked that way it made him feel when she lied to him. He knew that they both knew that the curtain was going to be drawn on their fever for one another the moment her coldness decided to stylize his work. He loved it, her work. She was a first class act, so beautiful. They stood together amongst a room full of his patrons. It made him, "they're really here to see you" he whispered, lovingly with licks, regretfully aware that drawing her in closer toward him would only pull them apart. The tension he felt cast a light, through his closed eyes.  The work was magnificent, their reflection of each other being seen by the people, the groups.  He stood there panting.