Mairon (mairon) wrote in arda_genesis, @ 2008-06-02 07:47:00 |
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Current mood: | reflective |
Current music: | Melkor |
He hasn't touched me in a long while, not since that first kiss or that last beating.
I mean physically, of course.
And then there is the way he reaches inside me with unseen fingers, gathering up the stray ends of my Music, gently caressing and coiling every strand securely into his grasp before he tightens it and twists relentlessly. It is agony. It is ecstasy. Somehow it feels obscene that it should be both.
And then there is the way he comes up silently behind me, tilting his head so close that the heat of his breath scorches the skin of my neck and flows like lava into my ear. I close my eyes and I'm not the type to swoon, but there's always a first time.
And then he starts to whisper, with words that say nothing and mean everything. Soothing and seductive, instructive and edifying. Manipulative. Predatory. Arousing. All of that.
My hand couldn't begin to satisfy the ache, so I don't even try.
That's the point, I think.