A Cold and Broken Hallelujah - Timestamp Two
So, another one. Just a tiny little drabble that I really needed to write. 1896 words in first person POV.
No warnings, no beta, not mine and I promise I make no money, not one teeny cent, so don't sue.
I couldn't help but stare at him. It had been so long since I had seen him. Sometimes I thought that I would forget how he looked; that I had misremembered the colour of his eyes, the slight curve of his lips, as if the world was permanently amusing to him. Surely no-one's hair could be the shade I recalled, no-one's presence so all-consuming.
My emotions tumbled. It was almost as if time had paused, balanced on the spire of the second hand, overcome by him. I knew my feelings must be clear on my face. Surprise, hope, others I had no wish to name just yet, writ large across the pale skin.
Still I stood, eyes fixed on him, unable to move, barely breathing as he walked slowly towards me. He pauses in front of me, eyes meeting mine. His cerulean gaze shimmered in a haze of tears, diamond droplets hovering on his lashes.
I can no longer hold his gaze, my eyes flickering closed. I can feel the damp trails my own tears make as they track across my skin. Then, so soft, a butterfly caress, as his fingers brush across my cheek, collecting the salt liquid.
A sigh shivers out of me and his touch firms, warm palm cupping my cheek, tilting my face towards him; as if I wasn't already fixed on him, trapped in his orbit, a cold, forgotten planet finally pulled towards the sun's heat.
“Michael.”
His voice is soft, my name a whisper, laden with emotion. I let my lashes flicker up, wanting - needing to see him. I let my gaze caress the angles of his face; trace each cheekbone, the soft bow and curve of lip, the angle of his jaw.
I finally realize my fingers are following my gaze when I see my hand, fingers resting gently on his neck, his pulse swift beneath my touch. I look up again, past the amused curve of his smile, to meet his eyes. The azure gaze meets my own dark stare and I see my feelings mirrored in him.
Disbelief turns to hope, long suppressed need igniting into desire. His thumb brushes my mouth and I part my lips softly for him, silent answer to his unspoken question.
His head tilts and dips and his breath brushes over my skin. I can no longer focus and allow my eyes to slip closed, instead breathing in the scent of him, almost forgotten yet ever familiar.
“Michael?”
The word causes his lips to brush mine and another shudder ripples through me. I tilt my head, a tiny movement that brings everything into alignment and finally, finally we are kissing. Just the barest touch of mouth on mouth, the soft exchange of air and life.
And it is all I ever wanted, everything I need.
No warnings, no beta, not mine and I promise I make no money, not one teeny cent, so don't sue.
I couldn't help but stare at him. It had been so long since I had seen him. Sometimes I thought that I would forget how he looked; that I had misremembered the colour of his eyes, the slight curve of his lips, as if the world was permanently amusing to him. Surely no-one's hair could be the shade I recalled, no-one's presence so all-consuming.
My emotions tumbled. It was almost as if time had paused, balanced on the spire of the second hand, overcome by him. I knew my feelings must be clear on my face. Surprise, hope, others I had no wish to name just yet, writ large across the pale skin.
Still I stood, eyes fixed on him, unable to move, barely breathing as he walked slowly towards me. He pauses in front of me, eyes meeting mine. His cerulean gaze shimmered in a haze of tears, diamond droplets hovering on his lashes.
I can no longer hold his gaze, my eyes flickering closed. I can feel the damp trails my own tears make as they track across my skin. Then, so soft, a butterfly caress, as his fingers brush across my cheek, collecting the salt liquid.
A sigh shivers out of me and his touch firms, warm palm cupping my cheek, tilting my face towards him; as if I wasn't already fixed on him, trapped in his orbit, a cold, forgotten planet finally pulled towards the sun's heat.
“Michael.”
His voice is soft, my name a whisper, laden with emotion. I let my lashes flicker up, wanting - needing to see him. I let my gaze caress the angles of his face; trace each cheekbone, the soft bow and curve of lip, the angle of his jaw.
I finally realize my fingers are following my gaze when I see my hand, fingers resting gently on his neck, his pulse swift beneath my touch. I look up again, past the amused curve of his smile, to meet his eyes. The azure gaze meets my own dark stare and I see my feelings mirrored in him.
Disbelief turns to hope, long suppressed need igniting into desire. His thumb brushes my mouth and I part my lips softly for him, silent answer to his unspoken question.
His head tilts and dips and his breath brushes over my skin. I can no longer focus and allow my eyes to slip closed, instead breathing in the scent of him, almost forgotten yet ever familiar.
“Michael?”
The word causes his lips to brush mine and another shudder ripples through me. I tilt my head, a tiny movement that brings everything into alignment and finally, finally we are kissing. Just the barest touch of mouth on mouth, the soft exchange of air and life.
And it is all I ever wanted, everything I need.