InsaneJournal

Current location:	The windowseat in the stairwell
Current mood:	melancholy
Entry tags:	grey macnamara, prompt #24

Prompt 24: Snow
It's snowing. Small flakes of white spin madly, silently. Images drift and spin, to settle scattered on the ground.

The feel of skin beneath my hands, smooth and warm. The brush and tickle of sandalwood scented hair. The sharp ridge of a hipbone beneath my tongue. A shiny ring of steel so intimately placed rubbing against the back of my throat. The gasps and moans of pleasure, murmured words of love. These sharp and burning memories leave a bloody trail behind as they slip now from my hands.

I long to cling, to hold, to hear those words from you. Instead I let you go, hold my memories close. The sound of your laughter, the curve of your smile, the scent of your skin.

Alone I sit here, with the wall to my back, and watch the falling snow.

I love you.


Muse: Grey MacNamara
Fandom: None, original character.

Open for comments, etc. here.