Upon Waking

hands-of-blue

She's not a morning person, but she can be. When hearing a Voice so thick and sweet like warm honey swirling through your ears, how could one not rise to its gentle taunting? As the Voice fades, she knows Shizuru's retreating, secretly pleading to be followed. Franticly tunneling out from under covers, kicking pillows up and clawing sheets half off the bed, she emerges. The honey has dried up, but the source is faintly beckoning her from another room. The body is tense, the mind is charged, and she's awake now. As the Voice halts and she approaches, honey doesn't seem to cut it anymore. A rare and rich chocolate would be better perhaps. She doesn't know much about chocolate, but if it could speak, it would be that of Shizuru's Voice. There Shizuru sits, splayed across the couch, lazily waiting for her. Shizuru knew she would come, there is no other option. With a Voice so tempting, so alluring to the ear, how could she not wake when called?

Some nights are not meant to be spent immersed in the arms of another. The nights like that are soon viewed as as great a loss as the nights without stars. Catching the Scent throws her into a dizzy state of joy and guilt. How could she have kept her back to such a precious thing for as long as those heartless nights are? The hours must have dragged and pulled at Shizuru's body all night until she was left frigidly cold. Propelled by redemption and guided by the Scent, she creeps toward the still body. Gliding her arms over and around, easing her own body against the other painfully slow, and slightly resting her head in Shizuru's hair, she nervously waits for her verdict. Her breath appears to be weighted by an anchor and when released, she is repeatedly filled with her Scent. Lavender, tea leaves, a dash of the sea, and a hint of exhaust from her motorcycle encircles her as Shizuru stirs. A pause, a sigh, and Shizuru has passed judgment. Forgiving, pale fingers kiss her hands while Shizuru relaxing in her arms. It is her saving grace that every morning is worth spending securing another in your arms.

The Sight has never failed to make her weak. Legs give out, arms tingle, stomach slips, tongue dries. Her eyes don't lessen, but remain on Shizuru. Cushioning Shizuru's movement with each heavy blink, she climbs out of her slumber. How can the mere Sight of Shizuru cage her in such fascination? Shizuru stood vigil at the window, sun rays filtering through the creamy rose blinds, and Shizuru looked as if blushing. Steady breeze wafting into the open room, rustling Shizuru's roasted golden hair, and Shizuru looked as if flying. Oh how the Sight slid under her eyelids until she was nestled into Shizuru, blushing and flying with her.

Butterfly gentle stippled with inferno heat, a Touch from Shizuru is unbearably delightful. Clenching her eyes shut and gasping against her pillow, she hated with Shizuru started the morning like this. As the fingers twirled and pressed along her back, she knew the only escape from rolling around and smiling. But the days the Touch accompanied the sunlight, the same question assaulted her. Should she reveal her alertness to Shizuru, or smile into her pillow? Normally she would end her suffering, but today she found the corners of her mouth stretching toward her ears before she could adjust her position. The Touch must have become confused by this uncharacteristic delay because it continued to circle her back in long and drawn out strokes. Knowing her victory was soon at hand, she let herself revel in the Touch completely, grinning around the pillow and subtly tightening her grip on the sheets beneath her own fingers. Then the Touch took a dive down and along her thighs, then she lost a moan, then she lost her battle. The Touch retreated and she instantly flung herself onto her back. Shizuru smiled and the game was over, in a sense.

She stared until she felt her whole body ache. Those lips were teasing and her own were begging. Forgetting the sly look Shizuru had cast and dropping her mock anger, she leaned in and made a swipe for her goal. The Taste, better than a dream, it was real and without fear of turning into something horrible. Pushing herself back, but yearning for more, a kiss so small wasn't suppose to send her careening into an ocean, searching for air. But she discovered it in the Taste, and latched on.

"When the Thought of you huddles into my mind, there's no denying what it is you do to me. All my senses go mad for you and you simply standby and coerce them further into their various states of insanity. How do you think it is that I cannot retaliate? I love it too much. When the Thought of you captures and condemned me to be swallowed in your wake, I cease to flail. When the Thought of you has trailed me mercilessly, as it does now, I wait for you to make it real." Shizuru tipped her head to the note then to the running water of the shower next door. That sneaky girl, how dare she wake before Shizuru.