A little angst-filled ficlet from Booth's POV. Bones has consumed him, body and soul. May continue if the muse stays fed and happy.


Disclaimer: These characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.


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Breathe… just breathe.

I have to will my lungs to expand with air. Breathe, dammit, or she'll soon notice what a fool I am standing here with my mouth agape, wholly transfixed by her beauty. My Bones has metamorphosed into this sexual creature and I am delirious with carnal desire.

She has me zip up her dress, an innocent request - or perhaps not. Again my lungs fail me when I take in the creamy porcelain expanse of her back. If she wasn't preoccupied with her phone conversation, she would see how much my hands are shaking. This innocent task now made sordid in the depths of my imagination.

Where I could spout off tender words of my eternal devotion or undying worship of her, I manage a feeble, 'That's hot,' from my lips.

Coward

I'm too afraid to break out of character, too afraid to say so much more. Just doomed to stand here breathless and alone.