Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts
A/N: Not in the mood to write much these days. Here's something short.
Xenophobia
I asked if I could draw you. You looked up from the book you were reading, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
You've done it before, haven't you?
I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot on the floor. Yes, I have …but, not exactly in the way that I want to do it now. You look at me expectantly as you wait for my response. I can see your fingers tightening agitatedly on the page you're about to flip. I shift my eyes, not exactly meeting yours. I am unaware as to how you're going to acknowledge my next request. The words tumble out my mouth before I can even prepare for your reaction. I uncross my arms and start fiddling with a stray thread on my shirt. The atmosphere becomes stale and I can feel the weight of my words in the room.
I mean nude.
Your eyebrows rise slightly in surprise and then lower considerably. Your eyes turn away from mine and you close your book in your lap. I stop fiddling with the thread on my shirt and look at you expectantly as you process my request. Slowly, your blue eyes turn toward mine and you have an unfamiliar expression written on your face.
When?
Now.
Ninety minutes to the dot passes us by. You're situated in the center of my bed, balanced on shaky limbs as I instruct you how I want you. The robe falls from your skin, pooling underneath your back side as you settle into the pillows at the headboard. I'm set up at the foot of the bed, drawing board in my lap with overused charcoal poised and ready at my side. You shift silently as I wait for you to position yourself comfortably. The silence of the room kills my ears as I pick up the charcoal and set to work. You had one request—you wanted to cover your eyes.
Just pretend like I'm not here.
For they say the eyes are the windows into the soul. There's not much to wonder about why you made such a request. You are neither mine, nor am I yours. Your girlfriend is across town at her art studio—the one where we met. She wouldn't mind if you were doing this for the sake of art. But, you aren't, are you? You come over here under the guise of being a friend. I'm someone for you to hang out with when the boredom becomes too much. But, these days, I see in your eyes that you hide so much more. And you know that I see that. And I also know that it frustrates you that I won't say yes. That I won't consent to anything. So, you seek to keep your eyes hidden from me.
A little more ...
My charcoal scratches the surface of my paper as I work methodically to capture the curve of your waist, the tension in your legs. The lethargic stretch of your arms above your head, the instinctive curl of your fingers toward the center of your palm. Silent words slip from your parted lips.
I'm done.
But, your heart isn't.