My gaze wandered sheepishly out the window as my fingers lazily toyed with his hair. I tried to clear my head of emotion, inhaling sloppily. His physical hold on me tightened in response, and he became increasingly more fervent in his conquest down my neck, caressing each inch in tantalizing urgency.

My attentions settled on a young couple perched underneath a drooping willow, layered with glistening droplets from the morning's mist. This distraction lulled my mind into a deep slumber, and I lay oblivious for mere moments to the impending activities.

You won't admit you love me
And so how am I ever to know?
You always tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

I'd questioned him again the previous night. It wasn't as if I was expecting an answer, but the process had become a ritual that couldn't be challenged, it seemed.

Tommy, I'd mouthed from across the studio, pushing a strand of lingering gold back behind my ear.

Yes my star, he had answered aloud, a sly smirk coming forth.

I breathed heavily, examining the carpet pulls with feigned curiosity. Do you love me, I mumbled tentatively, glancing towards him with a pang of hope.

His head tilted to rest upon his left shoulder, familiarly. His eyes examined mine, giving the illusion of his pondering the answer. Perhaps, he answered with finality, chewing his lip and rising from his chair, placing his lips lustfully over mine.

And, entranced, I gave in to his wants.

And that was how the event came to a close, following in the footsteps of every night before it.

A million times I've asked you,
And then I ask you over again
You only answer
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

It was incredibly frustrating to realize that this relationship had drawn on for three years, three bittersweet, sensual years, yet there was no display of emotion… no feeling.

Every girl harbors childhood dreams of being swept romantically into their soul mate's arms, and hearing the three magic words that healed every shattered soul, every rocky relationship. It was an unimaginable ecstasy… at least, that's my imagination taking course. But, some people never have the chance to experience it…

His being in love with me really didn't matter as much to me as my heart conveyed. The fun we were having was enough, really… yet, deep down; there was an ounce of the package missing.

If you can't make your mind up
We'll never get started
And I don't want to wind up
Being parted, broken-hearted

The more I tried, the harder it was not to be practical in the situation at hand. I wasn't sure how he felt about me. I didn't know if I was the single element that brightened his day, or if he pined for my touch when I was gone. If anything, I just needed to know if his attraction to me wasn't only physical, for it had seemingly been the dominating aspect of our entire relationship.

Our complete bond was an endless occurrence of foreplay, always apparent that it would lead up to some finite peak that we would climb together, basking in it's warmth for life. I truly did see myself spending the rest of my life with him. I was in love.

For that reason, I couldn't blame his lack of verbal confession. I hadn't exactly lived up to that standard either.

So if you really love me
Say yes, but if you don't dear, confess
And please don't tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

Perhaps- what does it mean anyway? The word gives off the semblance of being undecided, not having the ability to answer yet. And yet, at the same time, it gives the illusion of not wanting to answer.

So, for now, I would console myself by interpreting his empty words, and pretending that he really did love me, that he was head over heels, that he worshiped the soil beneath my feet.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

In the abyss between consciousness and slumber, the words would pulsate through my veins, lining up with my heartbeat to form a haunting chorus. Perhaps…

So if you really love me
Say yes, but if you don't dear, confess

Subconsciously, I felt my button up blouse flutter off my shoulders and down to my ankles. Over his flexed shoulder, I continued to examine the couple through the glass. The man pushed a strand of hair free from the maiden's face, brushing her cheek accidentally in the process. The pair froze at the skin on skin contact, pupils locking. After an eternity, he pulled back, positioning himself so that her crown could rest on his breastplate.

As they embraced, the man looked heavenward momentarily.

His eyes were what caught my attention. Even from the third floor of the apartment complex, I could scrutinize them to my utmost desire. Swirling pits of moss, they were a kaleidoscope, teaming with desire, want, need… but there was something else there, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. There was another coat upon the surface, giving the effect of a misplaced softness, one that almost didn't fit the scene.

And please don't tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

As his kisses moved further down my torso, I brought my attention back to Tommy. Shuddering, I placed a hand on each of his cheeks, applying a light pressure. He sensed my intervention, and lifted his head halfheartedly to the level of mine.

My eyes searched his ardently, puzzling him. I frowned as my heart skipped a beat.

I had been expecting disappointment. I had been expecting lust. Not this.

I gasped softly, my head swooning. He grinned, assuring me. In pure elation, I crashed my lips against his.

Perhaps, perhaps

As we fell backwards, I laughed in spite of myself.

I should have known.

It was always more than words.

Perhaps

Perhaps is the song... by who I don't remeber. The post premere euphoria is taking over. :)