AN and Disclaimer: Hi, not mine. No infringement intended. That is all.
A thousand tiny dancers flit carelessly through the sky across a golden carpet and I can't help but feel jealous. I wish I were one of them, flickering and shimmering in the radiance and luminescence of your thick locks. I always look at you and have these bizarre fantasies. The setting sun continues to glow and casts down on that flaxen hair. It's strange, the way I find myself gazing at you. I often catch myself indulging in incomprehensible and relatively embarrassing fabrications about you to accompany my stares. The eerie evening glow permeating into the dining hall through the full length, barred windows washes your features in unsettling, harsh shadows. You look reminiscent of a Norse god. I momentarily gawk unabashedly until realization sets in and I can feel the warmth steadily crawl up my cheeks and to my ears. I attempt in vain to blink myself out of the stupor and return my focus to the platter in front of me. I'm famished, it would seem, yet I cannot bring myself to eat the food I have compulsively stabbed into a indiscernible mess. I'm not so stupid that I can't see what I have gotten myself into, and I'm not so ashamed that I can't admit it to myself. It's this feeling that I can't describe in any sort of coherent language that swims deep in the furthest recesses of my head and burns in the lowest pit of my stomach. It gnaws at my bones and cannot be tamed from its feral state. This feeling just won't subside. I've been meaning to tell you about it but every time I come remotely close, it makes my awkward tongue swell and spew incomprehensible nonsense. At least I am being honest with myself. Without a doubt, I have got you in my sights.
Feeling ever so coy, I steal a glimpse of you from the corner of my eye. There's that familiar rush of warmth again. The clenching sensation that puts my organs in a vice returns, too. My fixed, hungry glaze shifts away from you and back to the food for which I seem to ironically have no taste.
Mind void of any articulate thought, I outwardly sigh. I can sense movement and turn my head. I'm surprised to find my eyes meet yours. Needles shoot at me from your crystalline eyes and send icy pinpricks piercing my appendages like some kind of amateur acupuncturist; I feel their sharpness, yet I am almost made to feel calm by it. If I didn't know you quite so well as I do, I never would have caught the subtle flare of your left nostril, the miniscule arch of your brows, or the way your sapphire orbs dart back and forth slightly as you read my expression much in the same way I am doing to you. I inadvertently allow my brain to melt into a gelatinous goo and my eyelids to slowly flutter shut once before I make eye contact once again.
By now, you've raised your chin in order to better peer at me from above the length of your regal nose. I suppose through just one look I can't disguise my thoughts from you. A meek, rosy hue engulfs my cheeks and despite how obvious and naïve I know it makes me look, I don't feel embarrassed this time. I feel like you're staring me down, yet I don't feel intimidated. No, that glassed over gleam in your sparkling, sapphire eyes almost seems to be inviting me to drown in them. You're quite possibly the only predator on the planet who has the keen ability to make the prey WANT to be eaten, devoured and consumed.
You cock a slim eyebrow gently upward. Who could have known that such a small gesture could send such a surge of electricity up my spine and coursing through my nervous system? I can honestly say I'm surprised lightening bolts aren't shooting from my fingertips, with all this bizarre magic between us at this table. I feel my eyebrows knitting together and my head tilt as your full lips minutely contort into a smirk. My gaze is unwavering. You're so calm about things of... this nature. You don't seem to be disgusted with me. At least, not that I can tell. My brow furrows deeper. Are you? Because... I know you know what I want. Your smirk deepens and your eyelids lower. I have seen this look on your face before and I know without a shadow of a doubt we're on the same wave length.
My heart skips a beat as you flip your silken tresses over a lean shoulder, and my miniature dancers seem to prance along the golden dance floor once again. Those sapphire gems glint in the ever fading light of the setting star and float lazily in the direction of the heavy wooden door. A quick but subtle motion from your chiseled chin reaffirms that I was not merely seeing things and you did in fact gesture with your eyes towards the exit. This isn't an invitation. You're telling me what you want. You're telling me what I want. What I need. I hope I didn't take you by surprise.
As I watch you elegantly rise from your throne with purpose and saunter nonchalantly out of the dining hall, I've got to be honest with myself. I've never been so hungry in my life.
Cookies go to anyone who can guess what song I was listening to when I felt inspired to jot this sucker down.