Sometimes I just stare at you, and let my mind roam. I think about how badly I want to kiss you, to taste your lips, to gently torture them until they're red like ripe cherries, to feel your breath on my face, your scent filling my head with sweet smoke, slowly driving me mad. I can almost feel your pale skin under my lips as I hungrily follow the line of your neck with kisses and careful bites, my nose brushing against your collarbone as I dive further and further down, taking you, marking you, making you mine, even if only in my fantasies. I imagine how it would feel to kiss my way down your chest, to be able to discover every inch of you, to know how to make your breath hitch. I want to caress you until you shiver with lust and need, body arching into my eager touch, wantonly and impatiently. I want to show you love like no one else had before, to make you feel the way I feel. I long for loving touches, whispered promises, fulfilled wishes, for passion and safety, for three simple words... Fantasizing about you hurts, but it's a pleasant pain, and it's all I could ever have, so I just sit here quietly, daydreaming while watching you sleep, dream, breathe...