Passion burns and I'm at the stake
You don't know what you want. You don't know what the fuck you even want. Your thoughts skip like stones effortlessly across your mind, barely leaving ripples behind them. The dark water beneath them remains still, untouched, undisturbed. Fathomless, empty, and yet still full to the brim, and so, so black. There are nightmares there. It wants to suck you under. It wants to drown you in a place so deep that your thoughts will never reach you. It's the Leviathan, and this place below your mind is where it waits. And you don't know what you want. Your indecision makes you heavy, makes you sink, but you still don't know what you want. You flinch away from it, you lean into it. You'll choke and die in this ocean before you'll be able to decide what's real.
You want him and it hurts. It twists and twists that you can't have him and he's right there, right beside you, warm and real, and that's not enough to draw you out and that's a bitter pill. So bitter. Everything right now is such a raw, open wound. It doesn't matter what you want, the pain is unavoidable and impossible to ignore. You are immobilized, caught suspended between your fear and your lust. And the worst part is it's not because he doesn't want you. He does. He's so careful around you because he wants you but he loves you. He's so careful, you're so fragile. He wraps his arms around you like you'll break into a million pieces, not just with tenderness but also with determination (because even if you were to shatter, he'd spend the rest of his life putting you back together). His arms are safety. You retreat to him at the end of every day and he helps you heal every night. Little by little. Inch by inch.
You have old, Edison style bulbs which wash your room at warm, soft yellow. You can see him, see who he is, see where you are, see your hands when you look at them, see your body when you look at it, see his body when you look to him.. He's distractingly beautiful.. You're desperate to stay in touch in reality with him, where everything is firm and real. Things start gently, you tucked into his arms, brushing your lips against his, and, for the first time in what feels like forever, you kiss him, really kiss him. It fills you with warmth. Then, in minutes or hours, the shyness in those kisses slips away like a thief without you noticing. It's so sudden, so surprising, the way his breath hitches as his arms tighten around you. He gasps, his mouth pressed so hard against yours you can almost feel the sound of him moaning more than you hear it. It's a shock running through you. It sets the desire, snapping and snarling, into your skin like teeth. It hurts, the way it burns. It gives you goosebumps, and you feel it for days afterwards. You are bruised by it, the intensity of the tension coiled between you. You're terrified in that moment, but he is patient. His breath is shaking, he is trembling, his heart pounding where his chest is against yours. You can't stop thinking about it, over and over. Seeing it. Hearing it. His eyes closed tightly as you watch his face, his hand in your hair and the other fisted in the back of your shirt, pulling desperately. He's so scared to touch you he's twisting his fingers into your clothes to try to keep them to himself, because he doesn't know what is safe. His body leveraged against you... He's aching for anything but he doesn't move. That fine line of self-control. You are so grateful for it because it's what you need but that want for his hands on you is just as deafening as the shivering fear that you might end up 16 years ago in the blink of an eye. But before you can disappear down the rabbit hole, you're called back with his whimper burning through you, making your fingers dig in reflexively, stoking the flames. He is louder. It's just.. fuck.. He wants it so bad - sorry - he wants YOU so bad.. and.. Jesus.. your hands on him, in his hair, the heat of his skin.. he's so loud it's like he can't hear himself, you can't remember the last time it was like this... and you are surprised to find sounds clawing out of your own throat... he's still shaking, the fact that he can't lose himself, that he has to protect you while you are feeling wild makes you wilder.. his want, his need, so big and overwhelming, but instead of reaching out and grabbing you he just tightens his jaw and trembles under your touches, holding as perfectly still as he can as you drag sound after sound out of him. You're barely kissing his neck, his collarbone, and he's so starved for your affection that it feels like the world is ending. Fingernails just barely down his spine and he cries out softly and you're lost in it. It feel like you've taken something because you're intoxicated, so high... it's the tension as he stops kissing you and just puts his forehead to yours because your hands are fucking killing him. You're breathless with his name on your lips and he can barely hold himself away from you. Everything about you wants to close the distance. Your hands wander and his entire body reacts.
You want to give in. You're so hot, you want to brand him with your kisses. So shaken by your sudden desire. You want to touch him, you want to feel him, you want to be touched, you want to make him feel good, you want to feel good, you want sex, you want, you want.. you need...
It makes you sick..
You need to put your mouth on his.
There's a screaming in the back of your mind..
You need to hear him moan.
It makes you sick..
You need to get absolutely lost in him.
It gets louder..
You need to feel him.
It makes you sick..
You need to..
It makes you...
You need..
It makes...
You sink like a stone. You try to swim, but even his arms around you can't keep you from falling like an anchor into the dark. You spiral out of control, caught in the undertow, down and down and down. You are only vaguely aware of your own crying, the crushing panic. He's reaching for your hands but you're already gone. Helpless. Water in your lungs, you're breathing but it doesn't feel like it. Your sense of self is gone, washed away in salt water.
Get it off of me get it off of me get it off get it off of me
There's nothing around you to grab onto but you're flailing anyway. It's cold like death and you're impossibly small. The weight of it is crushing you, pushing you down, breaking you apart. You can't even scream because you're torn open. Your eyes flutter. You're losing consciousness. Outside of your mind, the body is hyperventilating. Anointed in tears, the eyes are rolling back and the body doesn't know where it is. You're choking and you're slipping and you can't see or hear. When are you?
Something grabs your hand, both inside and out.
It's him. He's under the surface with you. He dove into the freezing water to catch you. His fingers are firm and warm and real, wrapped around your wrist. You are suddenly not just not alone, not just not sinking, but you are caught, you are being pulled up out of the darkness. He is strong and his movements are sure. He will not leave you here. You will not drown, cold and empty. He wraps his arms around you and suddenly you break through the waves. You cough and choke, but he breathes air into your lungs. You cling to him helplessly and sob using his breath. It's relief. He treads water and quietly holds you afloat.
Outside the ocean, he talks to you with the softest evenness. You are crawling back into your skin, fearful, skittish, ready to run at the first sign of danger. But there is no danger, just him. You don't really remember much. He's cleaned you up, he's changed your shirt at least, maybe more, you don't know. You were too busy drowning to figure out how you got under the blankets. He repeats quiet mantras to you, bringing you closer and closer to reality with every question you have to answer. He sits beside you carefully and coaxes you into his arms. The body has consumed a massive amount of energy and you are too exhausted to stay awake but too hyped up on adrenaline to sleep. You're apologizing, deeply ashamed now that you're coming to, but he waves you off. We didn't know, he says, but now we do. We learned a lesson, that's all. It's okay. He just holds you and murmurs gentle words, rubs your back and tucks you against his chest.
You fall asleep before him. Not because he's not tired (actually, fatigue is eating him alive) but because he deliberately waits for you to drift off. You both are safely on shore, and after your breathing evens out, so does his. Curled in on each other, there is a quiet peace to be had.