Hot flashes of skin upon slick skin. The feel of her pressed against me in the most intimate of ways. I can feel the fire of her passion as she kisses me, her lips leaving trails of heat equal in intensity to the lightening that renders the skies over Cyclonia. Our bodies wrestle against each other, meld into one another and fall apart to do it all again. I can feel the power play of the ongoing war out in the real world translated through her harsh touches and loving caresses and I'm sure she can feel the same in mine. The dark of the dusty inn's room is filled with our heated cries and the creaking of the bed frame. My armor and sword lie somewhere forgotten in the dimness along with my Talon Elite uniform. For the moment my position as Cyclonis's general and the burdens that come with it lie on the floor with them. If only I could leave all those things on the dingy wooden floor in the morning and leave this place without them.
Our passion burns itself into exhaustion and I'm left awake, her nude form lying next to me. She is asleep, her hair tousled in the motion of our love-making. It's so peaceful now in the dark and quiet, our bodies radiating with the afterglow. Her steady, soft breathing lulls me into a place where my mind wanders.
Maybe, for just one night we could pretend our worlds aren't tearing each other apart? Maybe, for just one night we could lie and call this love? I almost laugh at myself out loud. She is a Sky Knight and I am Cyclonia's champion. I have killed more Knights and have slaughtered hundreds of soldiers… Atmosian soldiers… and she fights to rid the world of my empire. Our worlds will always war until one destroys the other. And this…this could never be love. That was the agreement. Our arrangement was strictly based on fulfilling the baser needs of our hard wired instincts. In the morning, we will dress and leave with hardly a word to each other until the next time we meet. It will be the same then as well; a night of heat and love making only to part in the morn as if nothing happened.
Perhaps even with another woman, I would not be able to find love. Some men are just destined to never settle. The wings of my heart are wide and unclipped and I feel in her the same urge to soar. Maybe this is why I look at her now and wish this was more than just something to satisfy our need. Again, my wishful thinking gets the better of me and I remind myself of my officer's rank. There is no room in this war for love; just this thin facsimile of physical rapture.
I hardly notice as the pre-dawn glow illuminates the small window until the first rays of the morning poke through the old curtains and she stirs next to me. I watch as she sits up and casually dresses, finding her various articles of clothing where they had been frantically tossed several hours before. She looks at me and those green depths capture me unexpectedly. I quickly busy myself with dressing, locking my steel armor into place over the green and orange Vulture of the Cyclonian colors. As I work to assemble the brace over my left arm I catch her looking at me, something in her eyes that I can't quite pinpoint. It's more than lust but not quite love- perhaps something not quite loathing, I'm not sure. Whatever it is, it is beyond the animal like need of the night before.
She catches me looking back at her and quickly looks away, brushing a brilliant lock of purple hair behind her ear. I hardly hear her muttered farewell and I watch her leave, her crystal powered nun-chucks dangling from her belt. I sigh. Perhaps one day this will develop past what it is. Or maybe I'm just kidding myself and it will always be the same.
I hear the sound of the Interceptor's Slip-Wing shift into flight mode and a brilliant red streak is left if her wake. Maybe next time we can pretend that this is love if only just to pretend…