Despite the familiarity of the worn blue cotton beneath me, and the well acquainted flesh above me warming my own, I can't help but feel like something has changed. It's the most peculiar feeling. Your strong calloused hands grazing along the sensitive skin of my thighs hasn't changed. Your hair clings to your shoulders in a matted wreck much in the way it always has. The way your muscles twitch and bulge in your upper arms and thighs as well as contort in your abdomen is as familiar as always. And yet there is an unsettling, nagging feeling informing me something has been altered. I am trying desperately not to let this sensation engulf me to the point of taking away from the mood.
Unable to discern these thoughts, I watch intently as you expertly maneuver me and prepare yourself as well, biting down on your lower lip thoughtfully all the while. My breath quickens as your brow furrows and you steadily position yourself for me. You're ready to make your move, and I can tell. You tear your icy blue eyes away from yourself and lock them deep into mine, glimmering in anticipation. Without words you ask permission and that's when it hits me. It's not you that has changed, it's me. I arch my back and lift my hips in approval. The standard, endearingly goofy expression of concentration washes over your features as your eyebrows knit and your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth. The pressure builds and the known sensation that is purely "you" begins to fill me.
Simultaneously nothing and everything has changed. Things are as they always were, yet now I truly see them as they are. My toes curl and I fill my hands with the deteriorated, blue fabric. A hiss escapes my clenched teeth and my eyes begin to mist. I am fortunate enough that in such a time you will undoubtedly mistake emotional revelation with physical pain and I will be able to somewhat save face. As predicted, you've noticed a change in my demeanor and lightly squeeze my thigh, slowing your pace drastically. You cast a concerned look on me, and I return it with a knowing smile.
I now have a deeper understanding of all the little things you do. Each caress, each gaze, each thrust, and each moan now mean something entirely new. I buck forward into you and you throw your head back. The pieces of our jigsaw puzzle have always clicked into place, but only now do I see the image. From the very start, your behaviorism has always been your unique brand of expressing those three words you will never have the courage to say outside of the privacy of your mind. You gently use the pad of your thumb to brush a blond lock off my cheek. The sparkle in your eyes may as well be screaming the unspoken phrase and I am overwhelmed. I bite my lip and rock against you more aggressively as I reach up to grasp your hand in my own. I can only hope my silent reciprocation reaches you as clearly as your unabashed adoration has reached me.
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AN: This is my attempt at "brevity in writing." As always, not my characters, just my emotions and feeling expressed and validated using them as a creative outlet. Anyway, this is written for a friend on deviantART and I hope she enjoys it. If you know me, you know exactly where I drew a lot of inspiration from. And if you don't know me... well. Please R&R if you enjoyed this.
