I opened my door to him wiping his rain-soaked glasses on his cravat. His hair, damp and slick, swept over his temples like wings.
How beautiful he is. And how lost.
A smile cuts across his lips. "I came halfway 'round the world hoping you'd ached for me a little."
When I kiss him, an uncontained ferocity struggles out of me, pushing him up against the wall. I imagine the quiet shift of bones against the unrelenting sharp edges of unfinished brick. His pulse beats like quicksilver, and I don't miss how he shudders, just a little, when I press tightly against him, scraping my teeth on the sensitive skin over his jugular. I'm wrapped up in the tempo of his blood flowing, the pleasurepain osmosing through flesh. I want to see him shatter and pierce my hands on the splintered shards. I want my name smeared carmine-ripe on his mouth.
I've always been warned of men like him - the ones that drive you mad, suck you dry, steal your breath, twist you up beautifully until you're no longer a lily-white plane of smooth girl-flesh. He's the stuff of fractured fairytales, and at that moment I wasn't springtime and candy and the girl you'd take home to mother. I fucking love it, love him. He understands me, perhaps.
I take what I want, just as he'd always wanted me to.
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Nous sommes toute la vie
Et nous ne savons pas ce que c'est que l'amour
Et nous ne savons pas ce que c'est que la vieThis song somehow reminds me of you. Happy birthday, honey.
Just once in his life a man has his time and my time is now, I'm coming alive...
Gonna be your man in motion, all I need is a pair of wheels. Take me where my future's lyin'...
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Diego.
Nothing compares to your hands, nothing compares to your gold-green eyes. My body fills up with you for days and days, you are the mirror of night, the violent flash of lightning, the Earth's humidity. All my joy is in feeling life flow from your spring-flower, filling all the paths of my nerves, which are your own.
Truth is, so great, that I wouldn’t like to speak, or sleep, or love. To feel myself trapped, with no fear of blood, outside time and magic, within your own fear, and your anguish, and within the very beating of your heart. All this madness if I asked it of you, I know, in your silence, there would be only confusion. I ask you for violence, in the nonsense, and you, you give me grace, your light and your warmth.
My blood is the miracle that travels through the veins of the air, from my heart to yours...F.
