Lo·qua·cious

Talkative

"So, what do you do for a living?"

I smile softly, slowly chewing the food in my mouth before answering.

"I'm a writer."

You smile back; warm, secretly.

I take a long sip of wine under your watchful gaze, your eyes glittering with mirth.

"And what do you write?"

You're quick, so damn smart and God help me, I'm already falling for you two weeks in.

"I'm a journalist."

You nod but your thirst for information isn't quenched.

You want, no, you emneed/em to know everything about everyone.

Lets call it a 'quirk'.

"I'm guessing that's not really the career you had in mind?"

How do you do that? See everything that others miss, how are you always so insightful and disarming and genuinely interested in everyone. I hate talking about myself, my past, but with you...

Words have only ever come easy for me on paper but when it comes to you its like I can speak my mind.

"I've always wanted to be a novelist, it's the only thing in my life I truly love. I already have two books written and edited but, well, there's just been no one interested in publishing them."

I shrug like it doesn't matter even though it emdoes/em .

The glint in your eye flickers and becomes a flame and I have the strangest feeling that if you get your way everything in my life will change.

I should have known then that you always get what you want.

XXXXXX

An·tip·a·thy

1. A deep-seated feeling of dislike; aversion.

"HELP! Oh my god if you're not in this room in five seconds I swear to Vader that I'll..."

I bound into the kitchen, half dressed, with my heart pounding against my chest to find you balanced precariously on top of our breakfast bar with a broom in your hand and a scowl on your face.

You catch sight of me and instantly sag with relief.

"Oh thank the heavens above! There's a cockroach!" you announce, flailing your arms in the direction of the living room, "A COCKROACH! In ourhouse! Can you believethe arrogance of the thing! Can't they sensemy fear- I mean hatred of them!?"

I roll my eyes and stroll past you to get to the dishwasher, pulling out a pint glass before heading towards where you'd been pointing to, the soundtrack of your freak out a constant buzzing in my ears.

"And another thing! How did it even get in? It's winter! All the doors and windows are closed!"

I let out a sigh as I find the tiny insect, "Come here little guy." Before cracking open a window and throwing it into our garden. I could probably follow it out, escape into the outside world away from whiny child afraid of bugs.

You're still moaning when I return to the kitchen and if you weren't so adorably gorgeous I'd probably scream.

"They're so grotesque and just ugh, they make my skin-"

I huff out a laugh and tug on the bottom of your jeans to get your attention.

"It's gone baby, don't worry the poor defenceless cockroach can no longer hurt you with its 'laser eyes' or whatever the hell you think insects have that terrifiesyou so."

You grin at that, finally halting in your endless monologue to hold out your arms so I can help you down from the counter top.

"My hero!" you sing, batting tempting eyelashes at me as I cradle you to my chest.

"My princess." I tease back, burying my face in your shoulder and nipping at the soft skin playfully.

"My Over-the-top-probably-psycotic-beautifully-childish..."

"Okay, okay, okay!" you giggle, "I get the point! Now shut up and kiss me!"

XXXXXX

Di·vin·i·ty

The state or quality of being divine.

Its late, or early depending on how you look at it.

3am and still dark.

You wake me up with hushed whispers, slightly frantic, a bright grin stretching your handsome face.

I never understood why you would always whisper in the night as it it was a sleeping baby you didn't want to wake.

Your fingers tangle around my wrist and you drag me to the open window that leads out onto the fire escape. I don't even hesitate to follow you up the rickety stair case and onto the roof.

This is you in your element; exploring, full of wonder at a world that had always seemed so dull to me.

You brought me the colour. You brought me the light.

It's not until about ten minutes later, when we're cuddled up under the worn blanket that had been Laura's, that I hadn't noticed you were holding that I realise what day it is.

I squeeze my eyes shut, clench my fingers around your biceps waiting for the pain to ravage its way through my chest but;

Nothing happens.

The pain stays a faint, heavy ache in my chest, trudging along with the blood in my veins just like it always is. It doesn't flare up, doesn't make me crumble into dust.

I slowly open my eyes, uncurl my fingers hoping I haven't left bruises on your perfect skin.

"S,Sorry, I er..."

"Shhh." you whisper, the hint of a smile on your lips as you lean back against my chest. "Just, watch."

You tilt your head back so its resting on my shoulder, turning your gaze to the stars.

There's a meteor shower. Of course there's a meteor shower.

By now I'm working off the theory that you're actually magic, what with your words and your timing and the way you know when words and timing aren't needed.

The stars are breathtaking, streaking the sky with their fading light but it's not them I'm watching. Never them.

It's always you.

XXXXX