Velika: The story of a lover

Again, she was sitting in that wood, rotting old chair, any slight movement could make ridiculously unbearable nose. Still that handsome, lethally attractive, middle aged, nicely dressed psychiatrist sitting behind his well-organized, brand new table. She stared at his hazel coloured eyes while he had his never-changing smile on.

"Hey, doctor," Said the woman with a lazy tone, her sight moved away from her doctor's face to the corner of the room, "I like talking to you."

"Me too, Logan, I enjoy talking to you too." Said the doctor with slight surprise, but his smile was still there, the deadly enchanting smile to Velika O'Sullivan, or at least the vulnerable Logan Klein, who she was supposed to disguise as currently.

"Good." She stood up, the doctor quietly observing what she would act next. She swiftly pushed away the books and paper on his table, sat on there and swung her pale, bruised legs to his side. She moved several inches forward, with her legs spread at a not so decent angle. Her delicate psychiatrist said nothing but still observing her behaviour with a smile, the smile she loved and hated at the same time.

Then she lighted landed on his lap, a very smooth, spontaneous move, next second her arms wrapped around his neck, he could feel her cold finger tips ran down through the back of his neck, then went further down a bit of his spine.

"I like you a lot, Aaron." Said Velika O'Sullivan, or Logan Klein, she did not know who she was at this particularly miserable second. Whether she was the rational first agent of Natural, or the sentimental, full of lust Logan Klein did not matter, all she had in mind was to take control of this man. This dangerous, yet deadly attractive man.

She had no power of denying her ultimate attraction to men who she was never supposed to be involved with, she knew perfectly that she shouldn't, but she had no power of control herself jumping into the dark hole she created for herself.

"I feel that for you too," Said the man with the same accent as Astoria Leontes, "You are a fascinating creature."

"Should I take it as a compliment?" Said her. Her face was closer and closer to his, again, she could see his wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His long, perfectly curled eyelash, and thin, pale lips, his hollow cheek and high cheekbones. Nothing about him met the conventional definition of a handsome man, but he was, no doubt, a perfection to Logan Klein, perhaps also to Velika O'Sullivan.

"Yes, you should." Said the man who was, roughly guessing, twenty years or more, her senior. She didn't know his exact age, but she knew Astoria Leontes, or more accurately, Larissa Astoria Carling, was thirty-one at the time and her brother, according to her, was more than ten years older than her.

Abruptly she thought of Blake Konigsberg and her beloved husband, he was quite a senior of hers as well. Then she remembered her late friend told her that how much she wished when they wrote their wedding invitation, they could address themselves as 'Dr. and Dr. Konigsberg', just like when her parents got married, they were 'Dr. and Dr. Klein', but that would never come true. Educated couples, thought the imposter of the real Logan Klein, who was imaging if she ever got a doctoral degree and married to Aaron Carling, they would be 'Dr. and Dr. Carling', and wouldn't that just be wonderful.

But she would never be Dr. Carling, and she would not be Logan Klein for long. She was Velika O'Sullivan, Mrs. Velika O'Sullivan, the one whose husband left her behind.

"What's on your mind?" Asked Dr. Carling, pulled her back from her unrealistic thoughts.

"Nothing." Said the imposter of Logan Klein, who turned towards the door when she heard the light footsteps from the other side of the corridor, "Do you mind me closing the door tight? And would you, dearest, put down the blinds?"

"Of course not." Said the Swedish doctor in a soft voice.

She moved faster than she did, when he was still waiting for the blinds to come down fully, she was already back sitting on his table, swinging her almost colourless legs.

He sat back in his chair, stared at her and didn't say a word. She bit her lips, which were almost as thin as his, then the next second, she was on his lap again.

"Will you love me?" She asked quietly, while gently kissing his neck, he was about to answer, but she cut his words off, "No, don't say a word. I don't want to know."

Would he love her? Yes, he would, he would love her with passion, passion that he probably never had and would never have again in his entire life. Aaron Carling was no fool, he knew clearly that she was not Logan Klein, he also sensed that she was perfectly normal and there was a great chance that she was sent by his sister, the only person in this world that he couldn't decide whether he should hate or love.

But he would love this woman, who was sitting on his lap and kissing his cold lips, who he also knew that they had instantly fell in love with each other, madly, furiously like fire, who considered herself as this non-existing Logan Klein. This psychiatry ward made sane people go insane, he was aware of it, more than anyone in this madhouse. And he was also insane, so was she.

He could take use of her easily, he could use her young, vulnerable life to threaten his sister and got her forever out of his life. The question was, would he harm this woman? She had nothing special, at least not physically. She wasn't pretty, she was only a normal looking young woman at in her early 20s, average height, average weight, and if he was several years older than he was, he might qualify for her father. But something about her fascinated him, he could sense that she had a depressing past and he loved this part. Coincidently this was what he attracted her, or what she heard from his overly exaggerating sister about what had happened in the past to gain people's sympathy.

Logan Klein was like a lamb to him, he was deciding what to do with her, he could strangle her right at this moment and she would have no strength to fight back. Dr. Aaron Carling told himself to decide quick. Should he kill her? Should he imprison her? Should he make her into one of his 'business goods' like the other brainless women and made a good fortune out of her with that young, still reckless German? Or, should he just love her back, keep her solely on his side and used her as a secret weapon again his loathe sister?

He made up his mind, he chose the last option. He began violently kiss her back whiling gently, yet swiftly unbuttoning her plain white cotton shirt. She did not resist, she let him do whatever he longed from her.

Again, very oddly, she thought of the Konigsberg couple, their images couldn't skip her tangled mind. She thought of when Blake Konigsberg told her, that in a late summer afternoon, she was in crazy, wrongly, sinfully joy of love with her future husband, then Dr. Logan Konigsberg on a table like this.

"I was never so madly in love." She remembered the blue-eyed, real Logan Klein told the dark-eyed imposter Logan Klein, with blush of excitement on her pale complexion, "I knew clearly it was wrong, but I just love him a little too much. So much that I know I would die for him one day."

The same words as what the good Juliette Leveque said, and these words stuck in her head, and took longer than she expected to dissipate.

"Do you want to leave this place for a while?" She heard the doctor whispered into her ears while she was still recalling Blake Konigsberg's words.

"Why would you even ask?" She smiled, the first time in a while that she smiled with joy, "I've been wanting to leave for a while."

The gentle Swedish doctor took his patient out from the hospital that night. He ruled this place, no question asked. He was driving with the windows down, it was a late summer afternoon, she let her bare arm out of the window, with a burning out cigarette in her cold, pale fingers, the smoke was drifting behind.

"Were you married? Or are you?" Asked the driver, who glanced at his passenger from the corners of his long, hazel eyes, "You have a mark on your ring finger."

"Very observant of you," Mocked the passenger, who turned her head towards him and threw away her not-remember-how-many cigarette, "Yes I was married for five years. My husband left me."

"Why would he leave a fascinating creature like you?" The doctor asked his second question.

"Well," She leaned towards him and stared at the side of his face, made him slightly uncomfortable since he couldn't look back at her, "Not everybody thinks I'm that 'fascinating' as you do, dearest.'

The psychiatrist smiled, so did his patient. It was no doubt both were drowning in something called love, or lust, or desire. Those words were hard to tell apart at this moment of theirs.

Would they ever belong? The answer couldn't be clearer than it already was.

She tossed the cigarette away, didn't give much concern about its potential for a small fire. The woman who almost forgot her real name pressed the button and the radio started playing popular love songs as she lit up another cigarette, regardless of her driver telling her that she really shouldn't smoke too much.

"We are all going to die one day, dearest, let me live at the moment when I can feel that I'm alive." Said her with a smile and her doctor shook his head but didn't say anything.

Again, for the countless time, she thought of the real Logan Klein and her words:

'But I just love him a little too much.'

'Love is a sin,' Thought Velika O'Sullivan when she exhaled her smoke, 'And we all are guilty of it.'