| I felt the touch of your fingers along my hair, touching so softly against my jaw as you bent in and you made me happy with the taste of your mouth. There was the feel of your hand touching my thigh, trying to be inconspicuous, but really revelling in the fact that you were able to touch me there and it was more than just friends. All these months and all those years of what we pretended we didn't have, finally. I started to cry, hoping you wouldn't notice as your tongue touched mine, sniffling as if pretending to breathe through all the fucking emotions you were driving into me with the touch of your hands and the smell of your body and the feel of you against me. What I had wanted for so long and could never get. You leaned back and you smiled at me, one corner of your beautiful mouth drawing up as you touched my tears and told me it was all ok. As you held me tightly and you told me that everything was better now. That we would be together forever. And deep down in my dirty, ugly, black heart, I believed it. You were the one to open me up and touch all those places that I refused to have let been touched by anyone else that I have ever bothered or pretended to love. You linked your fingers in mine, and it was much more than a friendly touch. It was something solid and there, nothing hiding behind shy gazes and awkward moments. All those awkward moments we had shared, when we pretended we didn't know what the other felt. And how we kept pretending! How insane we were. Your lips travelled over my face, touching and pulling back, caressing and hurting me. My poor lonely heart was going to burst and it would be for the best. You were making me happy. Your hand touched my ribs, touched my side and you looked up at me as if to ask "is this ok?" Your face, one that I had looked at for so long and denied the fact that I wanted you with me and by me forever. Why ask permission for the one thing that I am most willing to give to you? Can't you feel it? When my hips touch yours? When my fingers splay across the back of your shirt, wanting so badly to squeeze and touch, don't you feel the tension of me wanting to lie down and open all of myself for you? Can't you feel it? My inability to keep a frown on my face when you're around...can you not see it? And yes, can you feel the sexual tension? Like stupid electric shocks in the air, this incessant buzzing in my brain, it's there. Almost tangible. I smiled at you and I leaned forward, my aim your mouth and your heart. "Wake up stupid!" I blinked. Once, twice... Oh god. Was it... Had it been... I rested my head back down in my arms and watched you from across the room. When had dreams become my enemy? The End |
| Dreamer by: V |