Free Love LockDown by A.T. Smith Page A

nighties, corsets and baby dolls.
    Closing it up, I walk to the rails and choose a tight fitted pair of black jeans and beautiful silk pale pink blouse.
    Returning to my room I get changed. No need for a shower as I had only had one a few short hours before.
    The clothes feel perfect against my sensitive skin, the lacy underwear rubbing me in all the right places, places that haven’t been loved for three long years.
    Glancing at my frail body in the full length mirror in my room, I see my bruises and cuts, some fading, some not. My bony body is disgusting to look at, how could Leighton find me beautiful? I am disgusting, dirty and poison. My body had been used and abused for most of my life by one person or another. There was always the reminder of every person that had hurt me haunting my mind.
    I cover myself with the clothes I had chosen, not wanting a recap of the last twenty one years I had lived.
    I look at the nasty looking cut on my lip and forehead, it needed covering. I look around for makeup. Having no luck in the bedroom I venture into the bathroom. A glass door cabinet fixed to the wall, a reminder of my own one back at Lisa’s home, beckons me. I open the doors and smile at the supply of cosmetics I find.
    The shades of foundation and powder purchased, just right for my pale skin. A multitude of different colour eye shadows, blushers and bronzers lay in the cabinet.
    Makeup. I sigh. I haven’t worn any makeup for a long three years.
    I apply a thin layer of foundation and then smooth it over with a pressed powder. Applying a litter blusher to my cheekbones I give myself a happier look. I smoke my eyes up a little, looking slightly sultry and sexy, well as sexy as a bruised and battered girl can. A black line added to each eyelid and then finished with a few coats of lengthening mascara. I look like a new person. Well actually more like the old person that I once knew.
    I brush my long locks through and give them a shake. The blonde curls tumbling down my back, looking more alive and silky than a day ago.
    I breathe out and then back in before putting my feet into some pink ballet pumps, the colour matching the soft pink of my blouse. I felt good. I felt happy and my little emotional breakdown from a few minutes before was temporarily forgotten.
    I walk from my room, following the long hall we had walked through earlier today to the huge staircase. The golden fixtures gleaming endlessly in the winter sun peering through the windows.
    Taking the steps quickly I try and find my way to the kitchen. It doesn’t take me long as the first room I stumble upon had an oven, fridge/freezer, kettle and other kitchen appliance so I all but assume I was in the correct place.
    I find my way around the room easily to get myself a cup and some hot chocolate powder.
    Sitting at the huge island I sip my steaming cup of coco, relishing in the warmth. I hear footsteps along one of the many hallways and they distract me from my relaxing moment.
    The once suit clad man, now stands before me in dark jeans, a white fitted shirt and a blazer. His dirty blonde dishevelled hair is sticking out sexily on top of his beautiful head, his aqua eyes glaring at me. Damn he looks good. Through the white shirt his dark ink peeks through. And of what I can see there is a damn lot of it. I’ve always been a sucker for tattoos and muscles. David was covered with them.
    “Abigail, you look stunning. The clothes really suit you.” I feel the blush creep my face quicker than I care to admit.
    “Thank you; you don’t look too bad yourself Leighton. Would you like a drink?” sipping my coco again I wait for his answer.
    “No its okay Abbi, I’m really hungry, so when you’re ready we’ll go for some food. “I stand and empty my last drips of drink in the sink then run the tap to rinse it out before placing it in the dishwasher.
    “Ready.” I brush my hands on the silky blouse as I follow him out of the kitchen. We walk the length of one of