sunday;
He's supposed to be too old--too isolated. He's supposed to be the neighbor across the street who no one bothers. He's supposed to be the person whose front lawn is close to perfect and whose yard all the stray balls make their home. He's supposed to keep his blinds closed all hours of the day and he's supposed to be someone who's just there.
He's not supposed to stare at you some days more than others. He's not supposed to acknowledge you existence on occasion and he's not supposed to speak a word other than 'hello' to catch you off of your guard; it's just not supposed to happen. He's not supposed to stand too close and he's not supposed to inhale each breath you exhale because when he does it makes you want to run home and lock your door.
The two of you are supposed to be neighbors who just live across from each other. You're not supposed to make it a point to see each other and you're not supposed to want to be alone in the same room and you're not supposed to be seen by your best friend kissing with just a little too much longing.
You're not supposed to let him touch you in places where you don't really want him to touch you but despite the protest and pleading of your moral values it just feels a little too good to pass up.
He's not supposed to put his hands in your hair and he's not supposed to tell you he likes your eyes and you're supposed to not believe him (...right?) He's not supposed whisper nonsense words in your ear and he's not supposed to know you're not pretending and he's not supposed to lure you over to him and you're supposed to tell him you can't and you don't want to even if you do.
You're not supposed to find yourself under him in his bed and you're not supposed to ask and you're not supposed to beg because your mom and dad taught you more and better. You're supposed to keep your clothes on and you're supposed to tell him you don't like his face being so close or his hands so low. You're supposed to call him names and tell him he's a sick pedophile and you're supposed to tell him you wish he'd stop saying what he doesn't mean.
You're not supposed to develop meaningless feelings for him and you're not supposed to be upset or disappointed when he's not there-- you're supposed to be glad. You're supposed to be unwilling. You're not supposed to be willing. You're not supposed let him run his fingers up and down your body and you're not supposed to get on your knees for him and you're not supposed to be hard for him. You're supposed to have a lot more self-respect.
&+
He doesn't always respond to you when you open your mouth and words fall out. Sometimes he takes too much and sometimes he's aggressive and demanding like you (really...?) don't want him to be. Sometimes he asks and kisses you on the side of the mouth and makes you blush. Sometimes you grab his shirt and push him away and sometimes you grab his shirt and pull him close. You're terrified, sometimes, of what he's going to do to you.
So you decide it's alright if he has his way with you and he can be as detached as he wants since sometimes he kisses are extra warm and sometimes he touches you like he likes you. Sometimes you even kiss him instead of him pushing you against the wall and forcing himself onto you because maybe he just needs you to sometimes. Sometimes you'll see a small, slightest smile on his face when he sometimes decides he cares and gives you a present. Sometimes he decides he likes what's going on between the two of you and he brushes his lips against yours and laces his finger with yours in front the door to his house.
Sometimes, he's not supposed to be able to look you in the eyes and sometimes he's not supposed to kiss you too much because he's got nothing meaningful worth saying. Sometimes, you're not supposed to be revolted with yourself and sometimes you're not supposed to lie and tell him you've already made plans that don't include him and he's not supposed to know how to show his affliction for you in other ways.
Maybe, he's not supposed to love--not even like--you. Maybe, he's not supposed to tell you he wants you and needs you and thinks about you. Maybe, he's not supposed to make you feel complete or like a person at all.
an; sooo... i dunno how to explain this one. i'm just trying to do this thing where i write a fic a week-- we'll see where that gets me. anyways, the beginning of this was, like, super easy to write. the end however refused to be written so apologies if it seems weak. reviews would be flippin' awesome. peace out.