Underneath neon signs.
Tonight, I end up walking through the humid streets of California, with flickering neon signs with every turn I make. People are scattered about, most I assume are criminals sitting in alleyways with eager, pretty-eyed women. I fumble through my pockets for a cigarette and lighter, keeping my eyes down on my sneakers instead of meeting eyes with the alleyway people.
I keep down the street the expensive apartment at the end, after the pathway to the elevator and ending up on the highest level. The sixteenth level.
I knock on the door to the fifth room from the elevator, finishing my cigarette and dropping the stump down on the pretty floors. The door opens, and reveals my blue-eyed lover.
She greets me with a warm smile, gesturing excitedly towards in my direction. I can translate most of what she's saying, always have, but I'm not capable to voice my words back. But these words are twisting on her tongue, and I can't understand. I can only imagine that she's telling me she missed me.
We are drawn towards one another. With bittersweet and hazy kisses while we find a way to her bedroom. I tug her down on the mattress with me, molding our lips together and gripping her hips. We switch positions, I trace a path over her collarbones and down to her thighs. I press kisses down to the mound of flesh between her legs, running my tongue smoothly as she whines and moans. She curls her hands in my hair as she shivers, crying out and shuddering.
My lover tonight is beautiful. With rosy lips that always curl in a suggesting smirk, it's taunting and mysterious. She's obviously foreign, her pink hair straight and honey milk skin stretching over soft curves. But I can't say that I'm in love with her, but what we have, I seem to love.
Her hands pull back from my hips, slow and warm. I fall into the place beside her, breathing erratic and chest heaving with something that wasn't fatigue. I close my eyes and forget she's even there for the minute. My hands rest by my sides, not wanting to touch my beautiful lover more than before tonight.
She places another lustful kiss against my jawline, smiling and telling me goodnight before flipping off the lights. Her back is facing me, the moonlight cradling every dip and curve in her spine as her breathing goes heavy. I believe she's asleep.
I pull back on my boxers, digging through my pockets for another toxic stick and a flame. I open the window and step outside to the balcony, leaning against the wall and setting one end of the stick aflame.
Smoke curls from my nose and through my parted lips, shoved away by the slight breeze. I watch it disappear in the night air, smoky clouds cover the night sky, draping the once loud city over in darkness. Moonlight shines over me, the light somewhat secluded from thin clouds. I look up at the moon, it was full tonight.
It looks white and pale, naked and vulnerable to my eyes. I can't get over that it reminds me of someone. It bends to the thick clouds that surround it. The shores break and bend for the bright satellite, bright light swimming over the ocean view.
I put out the cigarette on the railing and flick it out on the trees. Before I leave, I sacrifice giving a glance to the moon and hope for my lover.
Before any ray of dawn comes, I'm leaving in a taxi.
Tonight I walk through the beach and toss pebbles into the water. It's cooler out today, but still warm nonetheless. The shores are empty, only some of the footprints still left abandoned in memory. I follow down one of the pathways of footsteps in the stand, tossing my burnout cigarette on the ground.
I find him in the ocean of cool water, only bare in the shining waters and staring with bright eyes. He smiles once he sees me, beckons me in the water with just those emerald eyes. I can't decline the taunting offer, and soon I'm jumping in to join him.
He laughs when I break to the surface, gasping for air that I desperately needed and pushing my hair from my face.
His lips taste like salt from the ocean and an opulent bottle of wine, I slip my tongue in to taste him further. He shudders and grips my shoulders with a gasp, that I swallow down with another kiss before gripping his hips and grinding our heat together. We fuck on the edge of shore, touching and exploring over the sand as the gentle tide rolled over us.
We emerge from the ocean dripping and sand under our feet, leaving behind a trail of footprints in the pathway. I follow him to lounge chairs and continue our quiet conversation. He smiles every time we join eyes, he searches for my hand and entwined our fingers. I ignore that horrible churn in my stomach and choose to grin.
I dry off with the towel he's given me and pull my clothes back on. He only assumes I'm leaving him, he whines and clutches on the crook of my arm. I shake my head, I want something that I can't recognize and I want it sooner or later.
He looks wonderful in the moonlight. With green eyes and cropped obsidian hair, droplets of water catch on his thick eyelashes. My lover speaks English tonight, but I still catch on to a once heavy accent with some of those pretty words that leave his swollen lips. He likes to talk with me for hours, I always listen but somehow, tonight I find myself lost in thought.
I jump on the hotel bed and wait for him. He had scampered off to the small kitchen in the lobby and claimed he was grabbing us something to eat. I patiently wait for him to return, and I'm getting lonely without someone to warm the other side of the bed.
Our bedroom door swings open, he balances a tray of food and a bottle of wine under his arm. He crawls over my legs and lands in the spot beside me, smiling with a warm blush across his young features.
I chew on a piece of cracker and cheese, swallowing down the dry foods with a sip of wine. He flips on the television to fill the room with needed sound. We sit and watch some 90's sitcom, full of fake laughter and situations like reality. I don't remember the last time I had problems like that. But I don't complain, something to fill the dreadful silence between us.
He nestled against my side and I wrap an arm around his shoulders, bringing him close to my chest. He's warm and I'm still feeling cold from the midnight swim. I place my hand over the smooth skin on his thigh and mouth a few kisses across his jawline.
The green-eyed boy smiled and giggled, gently pushing me away until the moment our lips interlock. Whatever he was holding falls to the spot beside him, his hand coming up to card through my blond hair and push himself closer to the warmth between us. I roll over his legs to straddle him, kissing him more deeply. These concupiscent kisses that leaves heat to pool in my stomach.
We pull back from one another. He stares back with hooded eyes, clouded over with fiery lust and something animalistic. His lips curl to a mischievous smirk that sets something on fire within my chest. He fingered the hem of my shirt, eager to see me naked again. I shed my clothes and he pushed me back against the mattress, the old springs screaming in protest.
He grinded down on the warmth growing between my legs, keeping my hips down with the palms of his hands. His lips and tongue caress the skin over my thighs, stroking my member off until I'm a groaning, shuddering mess. The balmy touch of his fingers are greedy and impatient, wanting and utterly trying to please me.
My black-haired lover falls from my hips to the empty, cold spot beside me. He shivered from the breeze that came in from the west. It smells like the ocean, and I can only assume it's gonna rain soon. He snuggled into my side and wrapped the sheets around both of us, entangling our legs until sleep pricked my head.
Before the sun peeks out from the clouds, I'm out on the next wind.
Today I walk through the streets of Oregon, with cozy buildings on every block I turn to. Only a few people are wandering the murky streets to some tourist attraction. I look around the town center from under my umbrella, inhaling the heady smell of falling rain on the asphalt. I try to light a cigarette under my umbrella, careful not to catch any of the rain.
It hasn't stopped raining. It feels like it's been going on for years. I walk under my umbrella, eyes averted to the ground as people maneuvered a way through the empty traffic. My eyes flicker up at the large building, nestled between large oak trees.
Thankfully, the library building is empty. It smells like books and coffee. I fold my umbrella and tuck it under my arm, I shuffle off to some aisle and hope for something good.
My watchful eyes catch on some books, just the classics. I crouch down and inspect some romance novel. A sour taste builds on my tongue and I push it back to its rightful place. I drag my fingers down some spines of books, trying to decipher out the meaning of many titles.
Someone walks past me, and we collide without noticing either one. I apologize, crouching down to hand him his stack of books. He takes them generously, a shy smile adorning his soft, freckled features.
I realize that he stays in the same aisle, we're standing side by side. We bump again when we're reaching for the same book. But I assume that we are. He's only a head shorter if not more than I am, and the top shelf looks difficult.
He makes an adorable sound when I hand him the book, I hope that he wanted it. The boy accepted the book with mild interest, he thanks me with a smile and an introduction. I learn his name is Dipper. He's twenty. Just two years younger than I am.
I make an offer about the coffee shop just halfway down the street, he happened to know what I'm suggesting to. He seems familiar with the landscape of this quiet town. We make a stop to check out our books. He gives the woman who looked like his mirror image a smile.
We continue to chat absentmindedly the walk there, conversation flows easily between us. I open the door for both of us and he seats himself in a secluded booth, hidden away by fake palm trees. I ignore the plastic trees with a bitter taste, shuffling off towards the counter for two coffees.
I learn more about the boy. He's going to college with a full scholarship for writing. I listen intently to the words that spill from his mouth, my eyes stay half-lidded and a small smile had curled a way on my lips. The kid seems pretty invested in what he does.
Our talk is different for me. By the end of the night and we're standing rather close, I can only think he'll end up in bed with me. But he only gives his phone number and I steal a swift kiss before he's blushing. I watch him leave down the corner, waving and smiling wide.
We always meet up at the same place every day. The same coffee shop. We're always talking, I'm surprised that I lost track of time until the café was closing and we were again, forced outside to talk. I take a moment to glance down at the coffee cup still nestled in my hands, it was still full.
It's one special day that I won't forget, we end up dating by the end of those anxious months. We celebrate that day with a bottle of champagne and I manage to steal a few kisses that leave him breathless.
My lover doesn't move away from his book while I'm trying to kiss him, and I know he's just teasing. But by end of the night, he's wrapped around in my arms and moaning. We make love, slow and passionately under a cool breeze that smells like pine trees.
Dawn comes through the windows, and he's lying asleep against my chest. I give a few glances around his apartment, remembering the large collection of books stocked around the room.
My chestnut brown-eyed lover is intelligent, far more than that maybe. With pouty, rose petal lips that are always upturned. He always pulls a hand through his unruly brown hair when he's thinking. I realize that he spoke flawless English, and he was slightly fluent in other languages.
My vision is drawn towards the large, doe eyes staring across the mattress at my own. The beautiful, hazelnut brown orbs look deep and endless in the moonlight. His eyelashes complimented the gorgeous constellation of freckles across his cheekbones that put the starry night sky above us to shame, fluttering with every flicker of those brown eyes. With a tilt of his head and those curly tresses falling over the birthmark on his forehead, my lover murmured with an adorable blush dusting over his cheeks, saying something that I'd never would've thought I would repeat back.
Maybe I didn't know what love actually was. But all I knew was that I'm hopelessly in love with Mason Pines. The warm feeling runs through my veins when he looks at me from over his novels, his eyes sparkling with something like admiration. I feel it when his lips are feverishly pressed against my own, velvety and soft, brushing down my inked skin until goosebumps trail down my body. All those delicate feelings burrows deep within my chest especially when he cups my face, words dripping with honey about how he missed me when I leave.
He holds our flushed skin together when we make love. One hand curled in my hair and the other pressed against the center of my chest, our hips meet and he moaned. His hand ran down the side of my cheek, one that sent a ragged shiver down my spine that definitely didn't come from the Oregon breeze. I wrap a hand down between his legs, running my skilled fingers over his member until fireworks explode. We stare into each other's eyes throughout our time between the sheets. My eyes flicker down to his pouty lips, stained a deep cotton candy pink and swollen due to our lovemaking.
We pull back from one another, panting and shivering under the cold breeze. He keeps his hands in the same place, his limbs wrapped around my slim form and only helped with that warm feeling coursing through my veins as he fell asleep to the sound of tree branches dancing in the wind.
When daylight comes through, he shares stories and myths of the town. I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing kisses to his chin as he giggled and continued speaking his mind.