章 141: Who Is To Be Blamed - Him Or The Sex Potion?
Small droplets of rain pattered against the windshield of Melvin's BMW: signs of the returning storm. Apparently, it still had some chaos to spread, unsatisfied by the drenching downpour it had unleashed earlier in the day. Rumbles of thunder gurgled overhead like an upset stomach preparing to unleash its bowels.
Melvin sighed and flipped on the windshield wipers. As if he didn't have enough things to contend with.
He squinted through the darkness of the night, his glasses left behind at the club. Red brake lights and blinding white headlights were nothing but shaky blurs as he passed them, a horn blaring as Melvin sped by, Melvin feeling as blind to the world as he felt blind about the truth concerning Courtney.
Courtney. The mere thought of her sent a depressing weight sliding to the pit of his stomach. The sweet girl who had turned out to be an insatiable sexual vampire, thirsting for satisfaction rather than blood, taking on four men (one of which was Melvin's best friend) at this very moment as Melvin sped through the rain. How could he have been so wrong about her?
Or was the love juice to blame?
Did it matter? The situation had only opened Melvin's eyes to the fact that he had not so much fallen in love with Courtney, the person, as with the mental image, the innocent virgin with the girlish smile, of her he'd created in his head. Her dimples were the cause of this mistake; Melvin was now certain that they were hypnotically cute.
How had things turned so dark for him? Things had gone from the whimsy of a silly fantasy, complete with a sarcastic witch and dreams about humping leprechauns, to the darkness of a Grimm's fairy tale, factoring his ex wife's sudden obsession with him and the lesson of losing Courtney.
A bolt of lightening spliced the night sky with electric fury.
Melvin thought about Morgan the witch's words and the choice he had to make concerning the love juice, and he wondered if he'd ever had a choice to begin with. The witch seemed to have control over the proceedings from the very start, the thought of her always in the back of Melvin's mind.
He slowed the car to a stop and pulled up outside of the witch's shop. He inhaled a slow, deep breath. This was it. Gathering his mental resources (or rather what was left of them), Melvin pushed open the car door and sloshed through the rain, making his way towards Morgan's building in labored, lurching strides.
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