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I got the fire going and made coffee. She came down, a towelrubbing her still wet hair. She had a lot of hair, it was always shiny andsoft. She dropped the towel and looked at me, it was a mess. I laughed."Hey, no fair, I didn't bring my creme rinse," She pouted.I went over and took the towel and dried her hair more. "You are going tocatch a cold if you wander around wet," I noticed she had brought a brushdown with her. I picked it up. "Want me to try?"We had played hairdresser often as kids, I had developed some skills indoing her hair, she nodded and sat down on a bar stool. I noticed she waswearing her snug jeans again with black pantyhose now. Her cute feetreally got to me. I brushed her hair carefully so as not to tug too much.I was of course still wearing the white cami, white stockings pantyhoseand the panties, all which were visible while I brushed her hair, soon herpretty face was smiling again and I braided her hair. She liked that. Ifelt I was serving her again."OMG, did. She needed to here their familiar voices. She needed something, she had never felt so alone in her entire life. It was becoming too much for Bianca to bear, her spirit had evaporated and her heart was dead, she wanted to give up. She spent her days slaving away and her nights crying herself to sleep, when she was fortunate enough to get her mind to slow down enough to sleep. She had actually been at a point where she didn’t think she could survive, she hated herself for letting Diago go and turning her back on him and she hated her family for forcing this war in her life. She was deeply in love still, regardless of it all, and she just came to the point where she didn’t want to live with out him, than it grew to her just not wanting to live. She had gone into a deep depression, her mind was not hers and her thoughts had turned sour. She didn’t want death, but there really seemed no alternative, life was unbearable and over rated. The thought of death was becoming dreamy and she had.
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