Do You Know?
I watch you sitting at your desk and reading a book. Your eyes skim each page rapidly. Such a serious shade of green. Do you know that I wish you would pay as much attention to me as you give to those books?
A lock of hair falls in front of your eyes; you brush it back up carelessly. My hand itches to do the same. Any reason will do so long as I can touch you. I wish you'd grow your hair longer.
You looked up suddenly, frowning. You looked around the office, and I smiled when your eyes came to me. It didn't matter that my smile wasn't returned. It didn't matter that you gave me an irritated glare instead. It made it happy that you knew I was looking at you.
Your frown deepened as you went back to your book. You lift it higher and hid your face, your eyes from my eyes. I found myself instead looking to your hands. You have such pale white hands. Do you know I wish they were holding me right now?
Holding and touching, your fingers touching my face. You have a wonderful touch. Light and sensitive, tracing delicately. Your breath against my mouth, your lips soon following. Your body against mine.
Do you know I wish I could hold you forever, never letting go. Feeling you beside me, knowing you are there. You are warmth in this cold life, and I want to hold you forever in my arms.
You are reluctant, hesitant at first. Slow to warm though fire burns constantly inside you. You wear an indifferent mask, concealing your feelings behind it. In suppressing them, they become stronger and many times broke through the disguise.
The cries you make as our bodies danced. Your fingers digging into my back. The heat we make between us. It gets stronger each time.
You ask me why I am so nice to you. You look at me with disbelief when I answer because I like you. You ignore me when I say I love you.
Why, you ask, why? You made me want to live, that's why. And you look strangely at me again and turn away. Idiot, you say, and I smile.
Do you know that I love you, Hisoka?
I watch you sitting at your desk and reading a book. Your eyes skim each page rapidly. Such a serious shade of green. Do you know that I wish you would pay as much attention to me as you give to those books?
A lock of hair falls in front of your eyes; you brush it back up carelessly. My hand itches to do the same. Any reason will do so long as I can touch you. I wish you'd grow your hair longer.
You looked up suddenly, frowning. You looked around the office, and I smiled when your eyes came to me. It didn't matter that my smile wasn't returned. It didn't matter that you gave me an irritated glare instead. It made it happy that you knew I was looking at you.
Your frown deepened as you went back to your book. You lift it higher and hid your face, your eyes from my eyes. I found myself instead looking to your hands. You have such pale white hands. Do you know I wish they were holding me right now?
Holding and touching, your fingers touching my face. You have a wonderful touch. Light and sensitive, tracing delicately. Your breath against my mouth, your lips soon following. Your body against mine.
Do you know I wish I could hold you forever, never letting go. Feeling you beside me, knowing you are there. You are warmth in this cold life, and I want to hold you forever in my arms.
You are reluctant, hesitant at first. Slow to warm though fire burns constantly inside you. You wear an indifferent mask, concealing your feelings behind it. In suppressing them, they become stronger and many times broke through the disguise.
The cries you make as our bodies danced. Your fingers digging into my back. The heat we make between us. It gets stronger each time.
You ask me why I am so nice to you. You look at me with disbelief when I answer because I like you. You ignore me when I say I love you.
Why, you ask, why? You made me want to live, that's why. And you look strangely at me again and turn away. Idiot, you say, and I smile.
Do you know that I love you, Hisoka?