The moment I draw back and pull up the wall again, I can actually see him recoil from it. Is it because of what we shared just now that I see this? Or did I just not want to see how he did it before? Or did I simply not see it? It hurts, it hurts as much as the walls around me. They come up easily these days. Walls which took years to carefully construct. New walls wrapped in insanity to keep sanity and the horrible pain away.
He changes the subject so briskly, I falter in my steps for a moment. I quickly catch myself, pausing for a moment to repair the small crack in the wall. There are many, I can see them now as though there’s light pouring through them. And they all bear his name. Angel. He has a power over me no one else has before. Not even Fred, though these walls were not as thick when she was still alive. Some of the walls bear her name, which makes me sad. She’d not have wanted that, but there was no other way.
I’d seen him move to reach for me, and part of me was already moving into that. Like a puppet on a string. I’d do anything for him. Always have, always will. This should scare me, and at one point it had. But it no longer does. There is nothing else left to live for, not for me. He’s the only reason I’m still moving on, day by day. On autopilot. One foot in front of the other, eyes ahead, doing my job. There’s a small spark of hope now though. A small spark that things may be alight after all, after what we did this afternoon. What we shared. I still feel as though I might break, and only Angel is the glue which is keeping me together.
“We were?” I blink at him as I sink into my office chair. I try to recall our conversation before things….moved to much more pleasant things, but I come up blank. My mind comes up with images that have nothing at all to do with Hamilton. Angel hovering over me, trusting into me. The look of pleasure in his face, the taste of him in my mouth, the feel of his cock in my hand…
“Right, Hamilton,” I say quickly, nodding perhaps a little to much. Clearing my throat, I flash him a small smile again. “Errr….what about him?”
I'm going to miss that smile. Even if it's only until tonight. It's a beautiful thing, Wes smiling. But the fact that he doesn't remember what we were talking about makes me wonder what else is going on in his brain. I try to hide my curiosity when I look across the desk at Wes. Normally, he'd be telling me what we were talking about. Guess he was in a worse place than I thought. Or you really wore him out just now. The thought makes me want to smile, but there's Hamilton to talk about so any residual happiness fades fast.
"He's a nuisance. Worse than Eve. I need him out of my way for awhile, Wes." I look around his office, and notice the books everywhere, and the spilled whiskey on the floor. Is he really going to be able to handle this? And come back to you the same man? "I can't just tell him to go away though, he'd be even more curious about why I want him gone. I need someone to handle him for me. Be my liaison liaison." I smile a little at my play on words, but immediately fall back into serious mode.
"I want him to go through you before he gets to me on anything. He's got an issue he comes to you. He's got something to tell me, he tells you." I look at him, silently asking him to work with me on this. "Basically, he takes his cues from you from now on, and you do whatever you have to to keep him busy." That had better not come back to haunt me...
Trying to get comfortable, while sitting down, after our activities, isn’t really something that is actually possible. I’m guessing I’ll be feeling this for days to come. Which brings a smile to my face, as it really don’t mind this kind of pain. It seems to ground me, make me feel what Angel and I shared was real. That it wasn’t one of my rather frequent illusions of late. And I’d had a lot of those. Wasn’t sure they were really gone. They seemed to come and go whenever they wished.
I leaned back in my chair, managing to squirm only a little bit as Angel explained things about Hamilton. I’d only really met the fellow once and I had to admit he’d been quite intriguing. Much more interesting then Eve, who had been an annoying nuisance at best. Lilah Light, Cordelia had called her. God, Cordy, I really missed her. I wonder what she’d say about Angel and I. Would she be angry, or would she put her hands on her hips, tap her Manalo whatever shoes and say that it was about time.
As he continues to explain his plan though, most thougths fly out the window and I find myself leaning forward again. Frowning, I look at him as I try to figure out just exactly it is he wants from me. What he’s asking from me, a not entirely sane man. I’m not making myself any illusions, I have others to do that for me. I know I’m not stable, the fact that I need Angel to ground me tells me enough. But I’d do anything for him. It would seem that I am just as incapable as ever to say no to whatever he wishes me to do.
“Do you think he will actually fall for that?” I ask quietly. “From what little I’ve seen he seems far more dangerous, cunning and cleverer then Eve.” And just how far does he expect me to go with his ‘do whatever you have to to keep him busy’? What *exactly* does he mean by that?
When he leans forward that little bit with that unasked question in his eyes, the desk seems impossibly wide and he seems impossibly far away and I know I'm asking too much of him. I'm always asking too much of him. My hand moves of its own accord to the desk edge, and I find myself leaning forward too, wanting to reach further, reach for his hand, touch him again and know that he's not so far. But my hand just rests on the desk, another aborted attempt at touching him. Or, really, trying not to touch him. This isn't going to be easy.
more dangerous, cunning and cleverer
The same could be said of Wes before Illyria put the last nail in his casket. All the more reason why I'm hoping he'll be able to understand Hamilton. If he's still got it in him. Maybe before he could have... I don't know why I have so much faith that he'll be able to get to Hamilton now when it looks like a small breeze could blow him over. It doesn't make me feel any less guilty about what we just did when I knew he was so fragile. Doesn't make me feel like it was any less right, though. We needed that. You needed that.
"I'm not really sure if he will, Wes, but I need this to happen." Need. "If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears." I try to say it lightly, but this whole situation is so frustrating and I've got so many balls in the air, I might have come off a little more harsh than I intended. I take back my hand and rub it over my face and slumping back in the chair. This is never going to work.
"It could be a gradual thing, maybe eventually, he'll just come directly to you, if we do this right. There doesn't have to be anything for him to fall for. It's a business thing for all he knows. Restructuring or whatever it's called. You can put the research on hold for now if you want. I'll just tell him you're the guy to see from now on. He knows I don't trust him. Maybe he'll think I'm just trying to get my information from a source I do trust." This part I look him straight in the eye, because he needs to know that I do trust him. No matter what.
"I trust you to decide whatever's necessary to keep him away from me. Get him to help you research, whatever you want. It's your call, Wes."
The tone of his voice took me by surprised. I actually sat back in my chair as though putting some physical distance between us would make me less taken aback. Closing my mouth with an audible snap, I swallow hard and wonder what happened to make the Angel I’d seen in his office come back. Was it something I did? All I did was wonder if Hamilton would actually fall for such a thing. Question his plan, nothing I’d not done before. And he had reacted in similar ways before as well. And yet…
“Hurts huh?”
My eyes glanced to the side, and I noticed Cordelia walking around, looking at my office with interest. She was dead, I knew that much. But here she was, again, walking around as though nothing ever happened. She turned to me and gave me a sad smile before here eyes slid to angel. “On the bright side? At least you go to third base.”
I looked at her confused at that, but then realized that she had loved Angel as much as I did. I wonder what would’ve happened if Cordelia had lived and would be here. Angel and I would’ve never gotten together, that much is certain. Would I still be a cowering mess in the nearest dark corner he could find?
“That’s not and you know it. Suck it up, snooty wooly boy! Angel needs you now. You can be insane weirdo guy later. The smurf isn’t going anywhere, she’ll still be there to torment you when you’re done kay? Sheesh Wes, martyr much?”
Frowning at that, I tore my eyes away from her and glanced over at Angel. Who was still talking. It struck me as odd that before my ghosts had hurled nothing but accusations at me. But now Cordelia was…being Cordy. It was comforting and frightening at the same time. And I realized that all the people I had loved that way were now….dead. Cordy, Lilah, Fred. It almost made me want to track down Virginia.
“I’ll do my best, Angel,” I told him, and how funny was I that I had actually followed his conversation despite the distraction. Distract Hamilton by any means possible. Which would mean I could keep acting the way I’d done thus far, since that seemed to interest him. Let him think he’s using me, while I’m using him. Or some such. I’d rather be with Angel, but if Angel wants me to do this then I will.
I suppose I should be glad he’s dead, or he’ll die as well. Angel, I mean. Unless he doesn’t really love me of course. Not that way. He.. I’m not sure if he does, or if he just… feels sorry for me. Is it actually the people I love who die? Or just the people I’ve buggered? No wait, that would make no sense for Cordy and…Fred. Christ. “Angel?” I whispered, tilting my head to look at him thoughtfully. “Do you think I’m cursed?”
The storm of frustration churning and spreading inside was ready move out full force and then Wes whispers all tiny and small and it's gone. He needs me. I think.
"What? Cursed?" Umm, Hello? I'm the one who's cursed, but I figure now's not the time to mention it. We might get back on Wes telling me I'm a knight in shining armor. "What are you talking about Wes? No way." Is this about Hamilton? Did I say the wrong thing? Now I'm thinking this not touching is so overrated, but he feels even farther away now, then he did just moments ago. Not physically, though that's not helping, but mentally. Maybe he's crawled back into crazy Wes and I missed it. Maybe he's been crazy Wes the whole time and he just had sex with me to cope. He doesn't actually care. Gotta do this alone. Like always.
I turn inward a little, the image of myself holding Wes and comforting him fully in front of me as if there's a second Angel in the room. One who's allowed to love Wes. One who won't throw him to the lions. One who Wes loves back. Looks like he's not the only one reverting. What a crappy couple of...whatever we are. It only takes the drop of a hat to send one or the other of us cowering in a mental corner.
And his simple answer of I'll do my best doesn't ease any of the ache when it floats back to my mind. Of course he'll do his best. He's Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. That's what he does.
He seems puzzled for a moment by my question, but his answer is very fast. I can’t help but give him a small smile for that, even if he had no idea what he’d denying. “Cursed,” I whisper, as thought saying the word twice will make it less true. “I’m thinking I might be,” I mutter, more to myself then to Angel in particular. “Everyone I’ve love a certain way…”
Tilting my head I look thoughtfully at a spot on the wall while I think that over. Perhaps it’s the kissing? Everyone I’ve kissed is now dead? Or dead period. It would still mean Angel is save, considering he’s dead already. And he didn’t turn into dust when I kissed him. But then again, not everyone I’ve kissed died right away. Oh god, did I ever kiss Gunn? No wait, I don’t love him that way. I even doubt my love for him at the moment. I think. Christ.
“Maybe it’s the kiss,” I say seriously, turning to look over at Angel. “M-maybe I should find Virginia and find out if she’s still alive. Do you realize Angel, that they’re all dead? Everyone I’ve kissed and loved that way? They’re all gone.” I’m a black widow spider, except I don’t eat my loved ones, nor do I kill them on purpose.
“Melodramatic much, Wes? Geeze! You spend way to many times with Angel… And yeah, okay, me” My eyes darted over to Cordelia for a moment, her shimmering form looking at Angel and I with a mix of fondness and exasperation.
Turning away from her, I lean forward a bit as I look at Angel serious. “You don’t feel ill do you? You don’t feel like…dusting do you?” Swallowing hard, my look turns fearful at the very idea of loosing Angel. This shortly after I’ve….managed to get him to notice me the way I’ve dreamed about for years. That’s why it hurt so much the both times I lost him before. But he came back. I don’t think I could do it a third time, not after loosing Fred and Cordy. And Gunn, in a way.
“You’re not going to di-- leave me too are you?” I asked, my voice so low he’d need his vampire hearing to have heard that.
Hell. I don't what I did, but he's looking off into space and rambling on about being cursed. Why couldn't I have saved Fred? She'd be able to take care of him. But then, he wouldn't need taking care of if she were still around. My hand balls into a fist. I don't know what to do here, this is not my area of expertise. I brood, I fight, and I hurt people. I don't put them back together. I tried with Faith, I tried with Connor, you tried with Lindsey and look where it got me. Nowhere. I'm no one's savior.
He comes back to me and then it's all garbled sense about Virginia and kissing, and dying. He looks terrified. Wes doesn't look terrified. How often does he let his emotions go to look happy? If he's looking at me like I'm going to disappear any second, something is seriously wrong. I get up and before he says dust I'm next to his chair. Screw the not touching. I have to do something.
I kneel down so we're closer to eye level and I can hold on to his hand. I like holding Wes's hand. It comforts me, too. "Right here, Wes. Not dust, just a vampire with a boy holding his hand." A boy he's getting really worried about. I feel like he's still lost in his own world, and I want him back here with me. I'm selfish, but our needs right now aren't mutually exclusive.
"Hey," I say softly, putting a finger under his chin so he meets my eyes. 'You're mine, remember? I've got you." Don't fall apart on me now, Wes. I keep looking into his eyes, hoping he'll see something in mine worth sticking around for.
And suddenly he’s moving so fast I hardly have time to blink before he’s right in front of me. Which is probably a good thing. Just having time to blink, means having time to think. And Angel getting up would usual mean he’s leaving and I’ve done something to scare him off. Which had not been my intent. But he’s not leaving, he’s right in front of me, looking at me with those brown eyes I’m drowning in them. He had gorgeous eyes.
My hand in his is warm and the cool one clasping mine feels more real then the reality around me. He’s real. He’s here. I have to keep telling me that. My eyes dart up to look over his shoulder to see what Cordelia thinks of this. But she’s gone, the moment Angel touched me she seems to have left. Glancing back at Angel, I nod when he says he’s right there. And he’s just a vampire with a… wait a minute.
“A boy? I realize you’re older then I am technically, Angel. But I’m hardly a boy.” I scowl at him a bit, but then recall my fathers visit. He was always calling me boy. Is. He is always calling me boy. I have to remind myself constantly that I didn’t kill him, didn’t empty an entire clip of bullets into him. Some day’s that’s harder then others. Especially the days when I wished it had been really him on that roof, threatening Angel…and Fred.
Chewing my bottom lip, I sigh and glanced down at the hand holding mine. I’m not holding his, he’s holding mine. As though I’m some small child in need of consolation. Connor. I flinch as that thought, almost fearful when his fingers gently tilt my chin up so I have to look at him. “I am?” I whisper, still doubting that, even though there are marks on my neck telling me he’s right. But they’ll fade and this will become another dream. Reaching out with my free hand, I slide the back of it over the soft skin of his cheek.
I can‘t seem to stop myself. As if in trance, I lean forward, keeping my eyes locked on his as my lips brush tentatively over his. Expecting to be rejected, excepting to be rebuffed. "Yours, always.” If only he were mine as well. *Really* mine. As it is, I feel as though I have to share him with the entire bloody world. Closing my eyes, I let the kiss linger for as long as I can, for as long as he allows me to.
He changes the subject so briskly, I falter in my steps for a moment. I quickly catch myself, pausing for a moment to repair the small crack in the wall. There are many, I can see them now as though there’s light pouring through them. And they all bear his name. Angel. He has a power over me no one else has before. Not even Fred, though these walls were not as thick when she was still alive. Some of the walls bear her name, which makes me sad. She’d not have wanted that, but there was no other way.
I’d seen him move to reach for me, and part of me was already moving into that. Like a puppet on a string. I’d do anything for him. Always have, always will. This should scare me, and at one point it had. But it no longer does. There is nothing else left to live for, not for me. He’s the only reason I’m still moving on, day by day. On autopilot. One foot in front of the other, eyes ahead, doing my job. There’s a small spark of hope now though. A small spark that things may be alight after all, after what we did this afternoon. What we shared. I still feel as though I might break, and only Angel is the glue which is keeping me together.
“We were?” I blink at him as I sink into my office chair. I try to recall our conversation before things….moved to much more pleasant things, but I come up blank. My mind comes up with images that have nothing at all to do with Hamilton. Angel hovering over me, trusting into me. The look of pleasure in his face, the taste of him in my mouth, the feel of his cock in my hand…
“Right, Hamilton,” I say quickly, nodding perhaps a little to much. Clearing my throat, I flash him a small smile again. “Errr….what about him?”
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"He's a nuisance. Worse than Eve. I need him out of my way for awhile, Wes." I look around his office, and notice the books everywhere, and the spilled whiskey on the floor. Is he really going to be able to handle this? And come back to you the same man? "I can't just tell him to go away though, he'd be even more curious about why I want him gone. I need someone to handle him for me. Be my liaison liaison." I smile a little at my play on words, but immediately fall back into serious mode.
"I want him to go through you before he gets to me on anything. He's got an issue he comes to you. He's got something to tell me, he tells you." I look at him, silently asking him to work with me on this. "Basically, he takes his cues from you from now on, and you do whatever you have to to keep him busy." That had better not come back to haunt me...
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I leaned back in my chair, managing to squirm only a little bit as Angel explained things about Hamilton. I’d only really met the fellow once and I had to admit he’d been quite intriguing. Much more interesting then Eve, who had been an annoying nuisance at best. Lilah Light, Cordelia had called her. God, Cordy, I really missed her. I wonder what she’d say about Angel and I. Would she be angry, or would she put her hands on her hips, tap her Manalo whatever shoes and say that it was about time.
As he continues to explain his plan though, most thougths fly out the window and I find myself leaning forward again. Frowning, I look at him as I try to figure out just exactly it is he wants from me. What he’s asking from me, a not entirely sane man. I’m not making myself any illusions, I have others to do that for me. I know I’m not stable, the fact that I need Angel to ground me tells me enough. But I’d do anything for him. It would seem that I am just as incapable as ever to say no to whatever he wishes me to do.
“Do you think he will actually fall for that?” I ask quietly. “From what little I’ve seen he seems far more dangerous, cunning and cleverer then Eve.” And just how far does he expect me to go with his ‘do whatever you have to to keep him busy’? What *exactly* does he mean by that?
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more dangerous, cunning and cleverer
The same could be said of Wes before Illyria put the last nail in his casket. All the more reason why I'm hoping he'll be able to understand Hamilton. If he's still got it in him. Maybe before he could have... I don't know why I have so much faith that he'll be able to get to Hamilton now when it looks like a small breeze could blow him over. It doesn't make me feel any less guilty about what we just did when I knew he was so fragile. Doesn't make me feel like it was any less right, though. We needed that. You needed that.
"I'm not really sure if he will, Wes, but I need this to happen." Need. "If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears." I try to say it lightly, but this whole situation is so frustrating and I've got so many balls in the air, I might have come off a little more harsh than I intended. I take back my hand and rub it over my face and slumping back in the chair. This is never going to work.
"It could be a gradual thing, maybe eventually, he'll just come directly to you, if we do this right. There doesn't have to be anything for him to fall for. It's a business thing for all he knows. Restructuring or whatever it's called. You can put the research on hold for now if you want. I'll just tell him you're the guy to see from now on. He knows I don't trust him. Maybe he'll think I'm just trying to get my information from a source I do trust." This part I look him straight in the eye, because he needs to know that I do trust him. No matter what.
"I trust you to decide whatever's necessary to keep him away from me. Get him to help you research, whatever you want. It's your call, Wes."
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“Hurts huh?”
My eyes glanced to the side, and I noticed Cordelia walking around, looking at my office with interest. She was dead, I knew that much. But here she was, again, walking around as though nothing ever happened. She turned to me and gave me a sad smile before here eyes slid to angel. “On the bright side? At least you go to third base.”
I looked at her confused at that, but then realized that she had loved Angel as much as I did. I wonder what would’ve happened if Cordelia had lived and would be here. Angel and I would’ve never gotten together, that much is certain. Would I still be a cowering mess in the nearest dark corner he could find?
“That’s not and you know it. Suck it up, snooty wooly boy! Angel needs you now. You can be insane weirdo guy later. The smurf isn’t going anywhere, she’ll still be there to torment you when you’re done kay? Sheesh Wes, martyr much?”
Frowning at that, I tore my eyes away from her and glanced over at Angel. Who was still talking. It struck me as odd that before my ghosts had hurled nothing but accusations at me. But now Cordelia was…being Cordy. It was comforting and frightening at the same time. And I realized that all the people I had loved that way were now….dead. Cordy, Lilah, Fred. It almost made me want to track down Virginia.
“I’ll do my best, Angel,” I told him, and how funny was I that I had actually followed his conversation despite the distraction. Distract Hamilton by any means possible. Which would mean I could keep acting the way I’d done thus far, since that seemed to interest him. Let him think he’s using me, while I’m using him. Or some such. I’d rather be with Angel, but if Angel wants me to do this then I will.
I suppose I should be glad he’s dead, or he’ll die as well. Angel, I mean. Unless he doesn’t really love me of course. Not that way. He.. I’m not sure if he does, or if he just… feels sorry for me. Is it actually the people I love who die? Or just the people I’ve buggered? No wait, that would make no sense for Cordy and…Fred. Christ. “Angel?” I whispered, tilting my head to look at him thoughtfully. “Do you think I’m cursed?”
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"What? Cursed?" Umm, Hello? I'm the one who's cursed, but I figure now's not the time to mention it. We might get back on Wes telling me I'm a knight in shining armor. "What are you talking about Wes? No way." Is this about Hamilton? Did I say the wrong thing? Now I'm thinking this not touching is so overrated, but he feels even farther away now, then he did just moments ago. Not physically, though that's not helping, but mentally. Maybe he's crawled back into crazy Wes and I missed it. Maybe he's been crazy Wes the whole time and he just had sex with me to cope. He doesn't actually care. Gotta do this alone. Like always.
I turn inward a little, the image of myself holding Wes and comforting him fully in front of me as if there's a second Angel in the room. One who's allowed to love Wes. One who won't throw him to the lions. One who Wes loves back. Looks like he's not the only one reverting. What a crappy couple of...whatever we are. It only takes the drop of a hat to send one or the other of us cowering in a mental corner.
And his simple answer of I'll do my best doesn't ease any of the ache when it floats back to my mind. Of course he'll do his best. He's Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. That's what he does.
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Tilting my head I look thoughtfully at a spot on the wall while I think that over. Perhaps it’s the kissing? Everyone I’ve kissed is now dead? Or dead period. It would still mean Angel is save, considering he’s dead already. And he didn’t turn into dust when I kissed him. But then again, not everyone I’ve kissed died right away. Oh god, did I ever kiss Gunn? No wait, I don’t love him that way. I even doubt my love for him at the moment. I think. Christ.
“Maybe it’s the kiss,” I say seriously, turning to look over at Angel. “M-maybe I should find Virginia and find out if she’s still alive. Do you realize Angel, that they’re all dead? Everyone I’ve kissed and loved that way? They’re all gone.” I’m a black widow spider, except I don’t eat my loved ones, nor do I kill them on purpose.
“Melodramatic much, Wes? Geeze! You spend way to many times with Angel… And yeah, okay, me” My eyes darted over to Cordelia for a moment, her shimmering form looking at Angel and I with a mix of fondness and exasperation.
Turning away from her, I lean forward a bit as I look at Angel serious. “You don’t feel ill do you? You don’t feel like…dusting do you?” Swallowing hard, my look turns fearful at the very idea of loosing Angel. This shortly after I’ve….managed to get him to notice me the way I’ve dreamed about for years. That’s why it hurt so much the both times I lost him before. But he came back. I don’t think I could do it a third time, not after loosing Fred and Cordy. And Gunn, in a way.
“You’re not going to di-- leave me too are you?” I asked, my voice so low he’d need his vampire hearing to have heard that.
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He comes back to me and then it's all garbled sense about Virginia and kissing, and dying. He looks terrified. Wes doesn't look terrified. How often does he let his emotions go to look happy? If he's looking at me like I'm going to disappear any second, something is seriously wrong. I get up and before he says dust I'm next to his chair. Screw the not touching. I have to do something.
I kneel down so we're closer to eye level and I can hold on to his hand. I like holding Wes's hand. It comforts me, too. "Right here, Wes. Not dust, just a vampire with a boy holding his hand." A boy he's getting really worried about. I feel like he's still lost in his own world, and I want him back here with me. I'm selfish, but our needs right now aren't mutually exclusive.
"Hey," I say softly, putting a finger under his chin so he meets my eyes. 'You're mine, remember? I've got you." Don't fall apart on me now, Wes. I keep looking into his eyes, hoping he'll see something in mine worth sticking around for.
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My hand in his is warm and the cool one clasping mine feels more real then the reality around me. He’s real. He’s here. I have to keep telling me that. My eyes dart up to look over his shoulder to see what Cordelia thinks of this. But she’s gone, the moment Angel touched me she seems to have left. Glancing back at Angel, I nod when he says he’s right there. And he’s just a vampire with a… wait a minute.
“A boy? I realize you’re older then I am technically, Angel. But I’m hardly a boy.” I scowl at him a bit, but then recall my fathers visit. He was always calling me boy. Is. He is always calling me boy. I have to remind myself constantly that I didn’t kill him, didn’t empty an entire clip of bullets into him. Some day’s that’s harder then others. Especially the days when I wished it had been really him on that roof, threatening Angel…and Fred.
Chewing my bottom lip, I sigh and glanced down at the hand holding mine. I’m not holding his, he’s holding mine. As though I’m some small child in need of consolation. Connor. I flinch as that thought, almost fearful when his fingers gently tilt my chin up so I have to look at him. “I am?” I whisper, still doubting that, even though there are marks on my neck telling me he’s right. But they’ll fade and this will become another dream. Reaching out with my free hand, I slide the back of it over the soft skin of his cheek.
I can‘t seem to stop myself. As if in trance, I lean forward, keeping my eyes locked on his as my lips brush tentatively over his. Expecting to be rejected, excepting to be rebuffed. "Yours, always.” If only he were mine as well. *Really* mine. As it is, I feel as though I have to share him with the entire bloody world. Closing my eyes, I let the kiss linger for as long as I can, for as long as he allows me to.
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