just so lucky.. i think.
"He's like a fresh Spring morning isn't he? ... A sweet meadow", he smiles as he's crouched on the floor, where he always is, and scoops up one of his kittens into his arms, kissing and cooing. His dark hair is still ruggedly wild despite having just been cut, and the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow is forming on his chiseled jaw. Despite myself sterotyping, he definitely does not look like the kind of man who would behave like this. Being around him is becoming difficult; despite our strong friendship, he is ever more intimidating.
Beside him I am a doll; I am younger than him, shorter than him, and I seem more naive, despite being four years older. Good god I look so much younger...
Beside him I am like glass; reflecting his every joke and pleasing attribute and throwing it joyfully around myself like confetti.
He treated me to an evening of seafood dinner he made himself; posh aphrodisiacs, muscles, salmon.. I had never tried these things before in my life. Despite being an impossibly fussy eater who never likes trying new food, that night I ate like a wolf and had to apologise for the completely uncivilized way I ate it.
He is a master of alcholic elixirs; he had created a gin-based cocktail in a large sharing glass which at first looked like something a scientist would use. He named it Oceane. I assumed it was for the taste and colour, but the intoxication was as powerful as though we had been swept out to sea.
I enjoy his company for it's absolute and complete sense of being FREE.
Free, mad, and spontaneous.
I have wanted in so long.
