The Word (3/?)

"Oh God Pippin!"

The words pierce through the night, the last one resonant in the still night air.

He moans against the quickly warming sheets beneath him.

And his hands flex across them as he struggles to control the heat and dizziness engulfing him.

His breathing becomes shallow and fast, the sweat exuding and making his spiraling curls glisten in the darkness.

"Mmm Pippin!"

The word is heaved out of him, a retched poison to his body that it needs to be rid of.

He is so full of it that he can hardly contain his craving.

And he arches violently upward. Again. Again.

He feels the tears stinging his cheeks, slicing into them like knives.

"PIPPIN!"

The word crashes through the silence, breaking his heart and his mind at the same time.

He sobs at its meaning and at what it represents.

And he sobs as it echoes in his consciousness. In his world.

He sobs as his passion explodes inside him, spilling onto the entangled sheets.

"Pippin..."

The word throbs through him, his body shaking with aftershock of his love.

He bites down hard oh his swollen lower lip until he feels the crimson seep out of it.

And he stops breathing completely.

He wants to die.

"Pippin."

He hadn't know he could want someone so much.