Can you imagine, I've been sitting on this thing for a month. It's less than 500 words, can't believe it took me so long to post it. But it's my baby, and though I know it's not perfect, I love it anyway.
M because although it's only hints and there's no coarse language, those are pretty transparent hints and the whole drabble just just feels like it should be rated so.
Like a sudden wind he comes without a warning and goes leaving only chaos behind. Like breeze he's evanescent, but more destructive than any hurricane known to a man.
Like a whisper in the dark he's full of secrets that spike delicious fear into your blood and fill your mind with never ending questions.
His touch, like silk, is fleeting and thus more painful than a twisting knife through the heart.
His voice is a caress to your senses one moment and sharp ice burning them the next. He is your eternal damnation and your key to the heaven's gate. He is the man who put you together to help you climb out of the dirt and broke your heart to pieces leaving them exactly there to be stomped on.
He comes like a thief on a starless night, stealing your will and breath away.
Turning your bed into a mess of sheets and sweat, a sign of a nightmare or passion-filled illusion. And you're nothing but a mess of yes and no, yearning and terrified at the same time.
His touch is electricity to your nerve endings, his hand almost glowing against your skin. It' white as snow and hot as fire and in a moment of sudden panic you wonder if those burns will scar, but you know the only scars you'll have will be those on the inside, where no one can see.
His eyes are aquamarines shining in the dark, his hair the silver casing. They run the length of your body that writhes on the stark white sheets, tracing every curve and bump with an almost loving caress. They pierce through your very being, pinning you to the feather-like mattress like a helpless butterfly.
It's hypnotic - this dance of pain and pleasure, of love and something that is worse than hate.
Every word, his lips whisper, makes your body tense like a tightly drawn string, and you're a violin he plays with his skilled fingers keening and crying into the night.
Your corn colored hair wounds around his fingers as those deceitful lips descend on yours. Their taste is a poison of the sweetest kind, the one that brings rapture before imminent death. And you welcome its bitter sweetness into your blood, just like you welcome him into your heart, only for it to be broken.
And even this in itself is a contradiction.
Because he's yours with everything he has to give, sharp words on the poisonous tongue and smiles that never tell the truth and love so honest and utterly consuming that it threatens to swallow you – body and soul.
He's yours for tonight, but not tomorrow.
Because he loves you, but not enough to stay.