A Small Note:
Hey guys,
I'm a writer (obviously), new to this site, and my primary focus is the pairing of Sheridan and Luis of Passions. I do hope you enjoy what you read, and please review:). Thanks. . .
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by: dandelion
Prologue
The white candle stood tall, its flame wreaking faint shadows in a room that strove for its glow. Leaving invisible trails in their wake, trickles of translucent wax froze when they rolled onto the desolate wooden table. Golden and rich, a bitter gist did little for the secrets of the soul. An inferno of life, death and lust raged within the vicinity of a tormented heart. Outside, the pounding of the rain was insistent, perturbing.
Tip tap. Tip tap. Tip tap.
There was a certain alluring rhythm about it that encouraged pensiveness, invited the darkest skeletons out of a buried closet. It sounded determined. It reminded him of himself long ago. A driven, determined young man. Despite that, he'd been the crust of the man he had wanted to be. And now he was but the ashes of the imperfect man he'd been.
A firm tanned hand wrapped around the crystal glass, and brought it to his waiting lips. Burning its way down his throat, the tart liquid made him wince. Gentle hands fell lightly upon his shoulders.
"Don't do this to yourself." Her voice was soft and kind, her touch so tender it was almost caring. But he was immune to it all, had been for a while.
"I like the rain, Sheridan. It's… nice. I like it." Half-drunk and mildly amused he looked up at her with empty brown eyes. His eyes stripped his soul and squeezed at her heart. "Don't you like it?" Luis asked tunefully, searching her eyes with his own for any sign that she shared his sudden sentiment.
She closed her eyes and released a poignant sigh. "Yes, Luis. I like it… a lot." His grin was boyish and pleased as her hand delicately cupped his jaw and a small smile wavered on her pink lips. "You're drunk." Sheridan told him, her voice but a whisper as he kissed her hand. Quietly, she padded across the carpeted floor and settled beside him.
"I know." Though not ashamed, the confession was sheepish and he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. Loosening yet another button on his formal white shirt, Luis groaned with fatigue as he shifted on the pale blue couch to face her. "I'm drunk… but not very drunk." She drew closer to him, her hand gently prying the glass from his grasp and setting it on the wooden table.
"I know you're not." Dark eyes fluttered shut when her fingers undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt and the small ivory hands that had touched his shoulders, now caressed his chest. Wordlessly, she dropped to the floor, situating herself between his knees. Sheridan braced her hands on his hard stomach and slid upwards to cover his body with hers. Her lips pressed against the pulse point on his neck for a few moments before they left it to trace open-mouthed kisses down his muscled torso.
Suddenly the pounding of the rain wasn't a reason for solitude. It was rather comforting, and peaceful. And the golden flame provided enough of a glow as to allow the darkness to embrace them.
He really hadn't meant to respond to her brazen advances, but alas some things couldn't be helped. Not when her soft pink lips were pressed against his and he felt oddly compelled to kiss her back. It did something to him when she kissed his mouth, something foreign, unrecognizable and entirely too barren for him to cherish. Luis moved his lips against hers, dazedly flipping them onto the couch so that he was lying atop her. His weight was fully pressed against her, but she didn't seem to mind because she uttered no protest. As he pulled away from the numbing kiss, he was painfully aware of his apparent arousal and the fact that she knew he wanted her badly. She never made it obvious that she did know as her face burrowed against his neck, her nose nuzzling the sensitive skin.
He stiffened when she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him even closer to her. The notion was intimate… perhaps too intimate. Sheridan eased away to look into his eyes, sighing at what she saw there.
"Do you want to…"
"No." He lied hurriedly, not wanting to hear her call whatever was going on between them by the façade known as love—and making love.
"Okay." She nodded her blond head in understanding, tilting her face upwards to capture his lips in a final kiss before she slipped from beneath him. The black sweater she wore was designed to bare her shoulders and he felt peculiarly resentful towards anyone that would allow his gaze to linger upon the flawless, milky white skin. He watched as she smoothed her hands over the black slacks she wore and finger-combed her short golden curls, all the while willing his body to abandon its unwanted reaction towards her.
"Where are you going?" Luis asked insensibly as she slid her feet into the boots left by the main door.
"Out."
"Are you going to come back?" A narrow beam of hope shone through his voice, but the emptiness was too vast in comparison.
"I always do." She smiled at him benignly much as she would at a frail child before she slipped her black coat over her shoulders and gently shut the door, leaving nothing but the faint click in her wake.
