lovesickmelody
01-24-2010, 02:22 AM
I'm terrible at descriptions. This was just my imagination getting the best of me. There are no character descriptions, so how ever you imagine the two is fair game. I really just wanted to capture a moment.
___
As he looked into her eyes, he saw sadness. Not the boyfriend-broke-up-with-her kind of sadness, the my-world-is-changing-and-I-can't-seem-to-gain-control kind of sadness. The kind that held years of building up. The kind that was equivalent to the weight of the world. In fact, that was exactly it. The weight of the world caving in on her shoulders. And yet, she still had the strength to hold back the tears that were so close to escaping. Funny word, escape. Even funnier, the extents that people would go to for something so temporary. From the look in her eyes, he knew that her so called escapes never lasted longer than a few minutes. Not that it mattered.
Vulnerable. Yes, vulnerable is exactly what she was. But her strength and pride, whatever little of it remained, held her back from admitting so. He held out his arms and for once, she crashed into them. So fragile, he thought he might brake her into pieces if he held her any tighter. But he did, as gently as he could. It was his own strength that kept him from comforting her the only way he knew how to. Something told him that the between-the-sheets kind of comfort would do nothing for her. It was all that he knew, but he would find it in himself somewhere to give her the right kind of consolation. He was lost in his thoughts, trying to find the right words to express just how he felt, when her lips met his. Something about it was innocent. And somehow his tongue slipping between her teeth wasn't fueled by hunger as it normally was. Her tongue tasted of nicotine masked by one of those overly priced, guaranteed to last for hours mints. Nicotine; an escape he himself knew very well. Knew, being the operative word. He'd quit smoking ages ago, but he could see why she'd choose the temporarily calming smoke to calm her nerves. Temporary. Everyone has their vices.
That word, temporary. Would this be temporary? Would this kiss, that could very well pass for the best he's had in a while, be nothing more than a temporary need for human contact being fulfilled? If it was, he didn't care.
Maybe it was just another escape.
From loneliness.
Temporary.
Or maybe she needed it.
Maybe she needed him.
And maybe, just maybe.
He needed her too.
Would this be
Temporary?
And just how long
Does temporary last
Before it
Becomes
Permanent?
___
As he looked into her eyes, he saw sadness. Not the boyfriend-broke-up-with-her kind of sadness, the my-world-is-changing-and-I-can't-seem-to-gain-control kind of sadness. The kind that held years of building up. The kind that was equivalent to the weight of the world. In fact, that was exactly it. The weight of the world caving in on her shoulders. And yet, she still had the strength to hold back the tears that were so close to escaping. Funny word, escape. Even funnier, the extents that people would go to for something so temporary. From the look in her eyes, he knew that her so called escapes never lasted longer than a few minutes. Not that it mattered.
Vulnerable. Yes, vulnerable is exactly what she was. But her strength and pride, whatever little of it remained, held her back from admitting so. He held out his arms and for once, she crashed into them. So fragile, he thought he might brake her into pieces if he held her any tighter. But he did, as gently as he could. It was his own strength that kept him from comforting her the only way he knew how to. Something told him that the between-the-sheets kind of comfort would do nothing for her. It was all that he knew, but he would find it in himself somewhere to give her the right kind of consolation. He was lost in his thoughts, trying to find the right words to express just how he felt, when her lips met his. Something about it was innocent. And somehow his tongue slipping between her teeth wasn't fueled by hunger as it normally was. Her tongue tasted of nicotine masked by one of those overly priced, guaranteed to last for hours mints. Nicotine; an escape he himself knew very well. Knew, being the operative word. He'd quit smoking ages ago, but he could see why she'd choose the temporarily calming smoke to calm her nerves. Temporary. Everyone has their vices.
That word, temporary. Would this be temporary? Would this kiss, that could very well pass for the best he's had in a while, be nothing more than a temporary need for human contact being fulfilled? If it was, he didn't care.
Maybe it was just another escape.
From loneliness.
Temporary.
Or maybe she needed it.
Maybe she needed him.
And maybe, just maybe.
He needed her too.
Would this be
Temporary?
And just how long
Does temporary last
Before it
Becomes
Permanent?