Her lips were everything he had imagined, in those dreams he did not quite acknowledge that he had. She was strong and capable, but yet her lips were soft and pliant and Tam took what he wanted, drowning the storm in his head with the sensation. And then it ended. Cicero turned her face away, and even though her chest was heaving in a very distracting fashion against his chest, Tam knew the moment was over. He knew it, because the coldness of reailty was once again seeping back into his bones, the dullness of grey settling over his vision. For a moment there had been colour, fire, silence, all things that his muddled up life contained little of right now. ’You have a family, Tam… He heard the thud of her boots hitting the floor, her hands was on his chest, pushing him away, while he lifted his hands to her arms, trying to hold her still.
Suddenly he was angry, blazingly red hot angry. That there had been so many mornings like this, him staying silent and her playfully teasing. That he had to live two lives, as a man not quite whole nor complete. That, when for once there was something…something like this, he had to let it go. Deny it. Remind himself of duty and the job to be done. For the first time since he was a grubby little boy, he wanted out. Out of this lifestyle, of everything that tied him down and forced him to slowly break into pieces.
Realising that he was gripping her arms tightly, too tightly, he forced his fingers to relax. He looked at her profile, her face turned away from him. Raising a hand, feeling quite ill when he saw that it almost trembled, he turned her face to him intending to kiss her just one last time before trudging on with his broken up life.