Dear people of FF world. Here is a story. I don't have any recollection of writing it.
Anywaaay. Lie to me isn't mine.
His predatory gaze locks on her and she knows, oh she knows, what's
coming. She should be bracing herself but instead her mind wanders and
his tongue is snaking into her mouth and his hand is finding it's way
up her perfectly pressed skirt and...
"Gillian. What is wrong with you?"
His face is tantalisingly close and she realises that she has the
power. She decides to savour it.
She takes that step closer, their bodies so close they can feel the
heat radiating off one another. She fixes her blank stare on him.
"Absolutely nothing."
His face falls and he catches her mask's momentary slip. He knows that
she is pleased with herself.
She turns, picks up her coat and walks out. She relishes the fact that
he will watch as she leaves.
He hates that he can't help himself.
.
He shows nothing and in that act she sees her answer.
He can't stand the swap in power. Can't breathe. His mind cannot function.
She watches as he grows restless, finally realising why she has stayed
all this time. This is what she was waiting for. Her moment.
Stepping into the room she leaves a file on his desk, gives him a
dazzling smile and retreats.
He sighs.
.
Sleep doesn't come. He imagines her and immediately regrets it.
The bottle is empty and she is sufficiently drunk. Somehow her mind
feels clearer. More knowledgeable. It's a game. A struggle. A fight
for power. And she'll be damned if she lets him win.
He knows something has changed. She has changed. No longer the
carefree soul she once was. He blames himself.
.
She pushes him away and the animosity is clear in her eyes, her face,
her body. He can't help but step closer again.
His hands go to her arms, pin them to her sides. His thumbs caress
her, calming her. She retreats back into her mind and his hand makes
it's way up her thigh again, teasing her. Forever nothing.
He watches her face go blank and he removes his hands. He is, for
once, at a loss for words. He leaves.
She laughs.
.
Bitter, cold, angry.
Loathing.
Fury.
Passive and aggressive.
Well, she's through with being passive.
He is, for once, scared to be aggressive.
They work around each other. People notice, then pretend they haven't.
There is no solution. Just a never-ending twisted circle of hate. Or passion.
It's the same thing in the end.
.
They crash together. Again and again and again. Heavy breathing,
hushed moans, the straightening of a blouse that has been buttoned up
wrong.
People try not to notice.
Lust, fury, passion, anger. All the same once you get to the root of it.
.
There is no solution. They always needed something. A relief.
She wanted love.
He wanted... Something.
She had once believed in love, believed he could love her. She now
finds that what he gives her isn't love. But it will do.
He wanted to give her himself. He didn't know how. So he gave her what
he could. It didn't take him long to figure out that it wasn't and
never would be enough.
Tralalalala.