When we're at meetings, doing research or making a plan, it's just a torment for me. To be so close to you yet so far away... almost within touching distance but having to restrain myself. The urge to move closer becomes almost overwhelming: wanting, needing to touch you. But I can't. It's hard to believe that no one can see the emotion plastered across my face. I feel like an open book.
They don't see it, and neither do you.
I stare at you from across the table, trying to find a way into your heart with my gaze. It's not enough. I want to be...
Facing off as we train, we circle each other looking for an opening. I let you in; take the punch, just to feel your touch upon my skin. Even a blow feels like a caress when delivered by you.
You know something is wrong, that I'm not throwing myself into it with my usual abandon. You are all too aware of my distraction: but all too unaware that you are the cause.
For the thousandth time I consider telling you how I feel. Possibilities run through my head; fantasies and nightmares piling up as I dream of what could be, of what could be gained or lost.
For the thousandth time fear wins out and I bite my tongue, cursing my cowardice but knowing I could never bear to lose what little we already have.
I can't keep quiet forever though, it's just too hard, and it only gets harder.
In the depths of the night we fight side by side in a graveyard. I feel alive, and I know that for once you are attuned to how I am feeling - because you feel it too. The raw power coursing through our veins, marking us out, setting us apart from everyone else. We slay in unison; every blow, dodge and counter unthinkingly choreographed. No rhyme or reason, just pure instinct guiding us.
We fight not just to preserve our existence, but also to affirm it.
Without the rush of adrenaline, the pounding of the blood through our veins, there is nothing. The violence and pure high of conflict define us: we fight to live and live to fight. At this moment our connection goes beyond friendship, love, or shared destiny to something deeper, more primal. In some vague indefinable way I can feel you, almost as if you are residing in the back of my head. We are not separate entities anymore; finally whole.
As the last demon falls I turn, still feeling you in every pore. You fill my eyes, flood my mouth, and brush my skin. Your scent is all pervading, the sound of your breathing echoes in my ears. You slowly advance towards me, a grin splitting your face from ear to ear, eyes gleaming.
You take my hand and drag me away, heading into town.
Dancing at The Bronze, we tease the crowd as always. We are almost cheek-to-cheek, swaying against each other and to the rhythm of the music.
Do you realise you're teasing me as well? Surely you must know the effect you have on me. You grind against me, cotton on leather, closer and closer until I can feel myself losing control. The crowd, the lights, the music: they all slip away until there is only you. I can't take it any more. I don't trust myself to speak, so I lean in just slightly further and press my lips lightly to your own.
One soft kiss, and the world burns down around us.
I am shocked at myself, quivering in fear of rejection or disgust, but you barely seem surprised. Pulling me closer you wrap yourself around me, uncaring of our many onlookers, and banish my fear.
In a seedy motel room we reconvene, clothing discarded until no barriers remain between us. Lips meet lips once more, but harder and with urgency now.
Flesh on flesh, limbs entwined.
Everything I have ever wanted lies under me: pressing against me, wrapped around me. My mind reels as your essence surrounds and overwhelms me, leaving me almost insensate. The look on your face as you arch against me, the sound of your soft cries, even the feel of your nails as they dig into my back. All are burned indelibly into my consciousness. My obsession burns even as I gently slide eager fingers deep inside of you, feel you contract around me and hear your gasp.
I need to be closer to you. It's not enough, never enough, even now. Love is a pale, shallow thing compared to this feeling that burns inside of me. This craving, this maddening addiction that subverts me and breaks me and tries to escape me, to crawl under your skin... that wants to climb inside you and curl up in your warmth, to bask in the glory.