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Rated: E · Fiction · Romance/Love · #2075209
The thoughts of a lover during a fight with their significant other
It always starts the same. The clear translucent wall cracking, the warning signals blaring. The shadows slipping into our fragile sanctuary, sinking into skin. You would say that I am lying. I'd have no way of telling you otherwise. No way of convincing you of a truth, one you wouldn't dare to believe. How can I tell you otherwise, when every word that slips from my lips is just another sound in the background to your desperate longing? Longing, for things that are not, that can never be. The person I am not, I can never be. You're screaming my name, and you don't sound like my lover. But I can't help, watching those lush lips, the poison they pour into my skin, and think of the moment when they gasped with breath, as I drew near, fingertips gently tracing the inner curve of your wrist. We both trembled, as I licked your smooth lips, your hands caressing the slides of your hips. Drawing closer, I breathe you in with a body that no longer feels like my own, but yours. Pull me closer, touch me, smile at me again, and let us laugh at silly things. Our foreheads touch, eyes closed, and I can feel your heart beating. Lost within this self-made darkness, I feel so alive. I dream, we are alone in a world all of our own, smiling at the cracks in our cheap dishes and the songs you hum so out of tune. I wonder what you will do, if I kiss you now. Reaching out, I caress your cheek. You try to pull away and my heart skips a beat. Come back to me, I whisper, come back to me, please. You hesitate, and I wait and wait and wait. Call me back again.
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