Floodland
by Silvia

Push the glass, stain the glass
Push the writer to the wall 
It may come but it will pass
Some say we will fall
Dream of the flood
-The Sisters of Mercy

i. drip

Rain never really gets to me. Maybe I'm just used to discomfort, or maybe I instinctually block it out. Or maybe it's some strange alien thing. I'll have to ask Isabel tomorrow morning; maybe I'm not alone. But the rain is pouring right now, soaking my jacket and jeans as they suck it up like thick sponges. Yet I don't mind. Not really.

Every time I to go to see him it rains.

The window is always closed tight against the wind and the cold, and I have to concentrate for a moment, focusing my energy on unlatching and lifting the smooth glass. It's the heat that hits me first, a the dry wave. And then his smile, swabbed with innocence. He's so easy, eager. He's so beautiful in these moments.

But he didn't smile the first time.

ii. slip

It was a crazy impulse, really. I was just wandering, cutting myself off just enough to get lost. Anger had a chokehold on my veins - shoving a shaking up into my forehead, directing itself at nature so that Michael could still remain on this earth, in existence. Yes, I was that mad. And the window was just hanging over my head... calling to me.

"Why not?" I whispered, like someone was listening.

Alex flinched as I lifted the latch and entered, clothes creating a puddle in his carpet. I had to get them off.

"Max? Wh-wh-I..."

He froze, wide-eyed, and his hair looked soft enough that, yes, he could be a deer. Fawn. I stripped off my shirt and threw it out on the grass - no reason to leave a mess - and he backed away slowly. Cautious, cautious, but something greener than forests get is in my blood, and it can smell panic bubbling.

"Alex." The name felt like desire between my lips, and I nearly shivered as the tip of my tongue brushed lightly across the roof of my mouth.

Approaching, I could feel the fear rolling off of him and skittering under my veins, popping against pockets of adrenaline and pushing go go go. And then confusion, eyes squinted at their sides, as I brought my mouth to his chest. I felt it hum - his rapid heartbeat under my lips lightening quick, like a terrified rabbit. Delicious. My tongue snaked up across his shirt and to his neck, tasting a coat of salt spread over the skin. A playful nip, and he jumped as I laughed.

I could drink him.

Before complaint or prayers, I was upon him. His mouth was sweet under my nudging lips and he melted, like ice thrust into a furnace. Tentative, passive open-mouthed kisses turned slick and too quick, too wet. I was lost in his mouth, soft whimpers that buzzed against my lips. He had melted clear into me, found his way inside of me.

iii. slide

So I stopped. I had to. Before I couldn't tell who was who and what was what. But I would be back - that was necessary too. And as I crawled out the window I sent him a smile - an almost real one. The ones that make promises, that tell the future, tell that I'm coming...

Yes. I always come back.

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