And just like that, it was gone.
Everything. All the negativity, objections…dissipated.
Absorbed. That sounds better. The venom, pollution…it had been absorbed and was now corrupting someone else and I had been purified. God knows I didn't deserve it. Matt was repenting for the sins I had committed. Not that he didn't willingly drink up the rot, anyway; his lips decay more and more every second they were pressed against mine.
He'd gladly absolve me, I didn't need to ask.
So we stood there, both decomposing in absolute silence, neither caring that much. Maybe we'd be indistinguishable as separate people when the corrosion finishes us off. Is that what it would take? We'd have to be nothing more than tangled spines and ribcages to ever get close enough?
Your bare skull would still be fucking grinning.
Your hands are contaminated, resting on my waist like that. I don't know how you can't see it and aren't repulsed. You shouldn't touch me. I'm contagious. Stay away like everyone else. No, I don't mean it. God, don't leave me. Don't let go. We'll be ill and imperfect together and even when it looks like we're cured, you know it's terminal. But that's okay, isn't it? We knew from the start.
I know you're trying to stay composed, as you refuse to let go; you won't because you're stubborn. You know I'm detrimental to your health, but you won't listen. That's good. I'm not going to lie.
You'll forgive me when I confess to you. You always do. Rest your hand on my head and offer me salvation. I know you can.
I wish you'd hurry up and fuck me already before we've decayed completely.
You won't though. Tonight there's no convincing you to go any faster than agonizingly slow. I don't want this. I want it hard and fast and so I can't feel a thing afterwards. Don't want to think about it. But you're still here, reminding me exactly what we're getting into, won't let me forget. You want me to remember this because, god, you want it to mean something. Actually mean something. More than just a desperate fuck.
You want to be someone to me. More than just my saving grace, more than the one keeping my head above water. It's because you can't keep up the façade anymore; on the outside, you're strong, holding your head up high. You're everything a saviour should be. But inside, you're screaming for help louder than I am.
Thankyou to Shining Nova for beta'ing this.