Author's notes:
- I don't even know what to say. Thinking about S4...I vowed I'd never watch Longmire again after only 2 eps. What the hell happened? Lucky for me, I found someone to talk me off the ledge. She's given me hope, pointed out things to me that I can catch hold of and hang on to. I guess this story, starting off so very small, is my way of hanging on. I had to get this out of me, so bear with me. For all of you Vic and Walt fans, I hope you see the hope and that S5 actually gives us real hope...
...and one more thing...I started a group on FB to celebrate Vic and Walt and all that they can be together, the way we shippers want them to be. If any of you are interested in joining, just PM me here and I'll welcome you with the openest of arms.
BLOOD MOON RISING
To the world, I have become dark and cold. I've slammed shut the doors. I'm guarding my heart. I'm trying to forget everything that went on before.
I've sent her away. Within arm's reach, but away, just the same. I've fought with my jealousy while closing doors for her as well, but I just couldn't help myself.
The woman I want is gone from me. Perhaps the woman I need is the one with me now. The other one, she sent her to me, the motivation muddled, unclear, but here she is.
I play the piano. It's been a long time. I'm rusty, but the melody works itself out. Jazz. Slow and sexy. She comes to sit beside me on the bench. I feel her there, but I can't look at her. I stop playing. She's so close to me. I lean over. I nuzzle her neck and take in her warmth. I take in her scent and my body, long-denied, responds. I take her mouth, eyes closed. As long as I can't see who she is, I can pretend who I want her to be…
My hands run through her hair as she kisses me back. Lightly at first, both of us hesitant. I don't want to be doing this, but I need to do this! It's wrong, but it's right, if I want to stay apart from that world I shut out. I can start to move on with this. I can start by going somewhere I'd never gone with the other. I can be that new man and convince myself that this is the way it's meant to be.
I kiss her. I touch her. I fondle her while she fondles me…but I still can't look at her. I can taste her, tease her, admire her as she pulls her shirt over her head and bares her breasts before me. I can desire her and breath heavy for her.
I can lust for her, carry her to my bed. Lay her down. I can explore her, enjoy her, but I still can't look at her face…
I can worship her naked body with my hands, my lips, while she explores mine with hers. I can grasp her and cup her and roll myself on top of her, but I still can't look at her face…
…and while the rest of me is burning with desire, my heart stays cold. Frozen. Isolated in a grave of my own making. The only twinge it feels is when I let myself slip, in mind and in to her, and think, if I open my eyes, will it be her?
But I know it 's not, so I don't do it. I can't do it…but I can do everything else. Because underneath it all, I'm just a man. I'm just a a man trying to excise the ghosts of my past. Just a man trying to run away from what I tell myself is wrong when I know that once upon a time, it was all so right…
…but that was all before Branch died and when he did, so did the man I used to be...
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