AN: Written for a FCG challenge. If you're interested in joining, let me know; it's a great place to improve your writing. Now, this piece had to be a minimum of 500 words, cater to at least one of the five senses and use a specific photograph featured on our site. Bare in mind this was written with only a few hours to spare before the deadline; I was kinda late. It's unedited…[okay, is now edited by the beautiful Kazalene]
If you'll notice, I included all the five senses, moving from one to another with each paragraph as I documented the moment. I'm not sure how clearly this came out. I'd love opinions.
Sensitized
Light bounces off her fiery red hair, casting angular shadows on her soft features. It's an odd combination; one that leaves you helpless to do anything but stare. Her beauty is captivating sometimes, and though she keeps her weapons hidden securely behind her back, those eyes can pierce through your heart faster than any dagger. Within those icy blue orbs, her moods are always prevalent, visible, if one only knew how to look like you do. She catches your eyes, and you momentarily wish you were blind, or that she was a little less beautiful because, damn her, you can't focus enough to get out what you want to say.
But she speaks for you, moves ever so slightly closer to your heated body and the clinical surroundings of your dark office seem to fade away. It's just you and the woman before you. Her tone is as soft as her gaze, but doesn't reflect the hint of mischief that is prevalent in her eyes; it's slightly forced, her breath stumbling over the intonation. The words come out just above a whisper, but your ears, so accustomed to picking her voice out of a crowded area, hear every word. Before you can respond to her words, she steps back and turns towards the door, leaving your brain to process the connotations of two final sounds uttered from between her full lips. My place.
Mere minuets later, she twirls past you, purse flung over her shoulder as she heads out of the elevator and wanders to her door without a second glance to see if you're following. And it's that easy, that simple, to become overwhelmed. Her presence is gone but her scent remains; a heady, aromatic mixture of soft vanilla and some sort of flower… it's addictive, more toxic than any drug. In a daze of euphoria, you feel your feet moving in her steps.
Her hand trails against your arm as you join her on the couch. She'll never admit to knowing it - she clearly does - but her touch lights liquid fire in your blood; it pushes past the realms of normal social standing, especially when her fingers dawdle a little too long by your wrist. And if you didn't know better, you'd think it was innocent… but you know her, you've spent too long wishing and waiting for this moment that now it's finally happening, you're not exactly sure how to handle her. She's normally so controlled, her touches reserved for calming nerves, or guiding footsteps. Nothing intimate. Nothing, until her hand lands on your jaw.
Lips meet yours, and you fall, fall so hard you fear she'll never be able to catch you. What you don't know is she's falling too… tumbling down that proverbial hill into a bed of lush grass. Her lips part and you lose yourself in the kiss you've been denied for so long, meeting her tongue fiercely as you savor her taste. It's mint mixed with cinnamon; it's hot mixed with cold; it's so fucking overwhelming you can't control your hands as each and every sense is hyper-stimulated… Images flash behind your eyelids, her gentle whispers against heated skin tickle the fine hairs inside your ears and your heart races; synapses fire bolts of something somewhere and your eyes fall shut. She moans as teeth scrape her skin, shivers as a tongue caresses the marks; you're both so over-sensitized you're bordering insanity.
And hen it hits you. Hard. Your simple, honest friendship is over, gone, replaced instead with a deeper understanding; a trust nothing could possibly break.
You were always taught that love is truly sensing with all the senses, and, with that in mind, you pull her closer, lose yourself deeper within her, ensuring that, if you're falling over the edge, you're sure as hell taking her with you.
Fin.