Disclaimer: not mine!
He was hot.
Ever since their more-than-friendly conversation he had felt the heat rising in his body. He was lying down uncomfortable on top of the covers – the fans were blowing and all he had on was a pair of boxer shorts. But still he could not find the cool comfort he was seeking.
He was burning.
Strange tingles went through him, singeing every particle of him as he remembered her face. They was she looked when she smiled at him. The sadness in her eyes when she told him of her past. The walls she had tried to keep up by adding sarcasm, but then failing. He wanted to make it better – he would do anything to make it better. But she wasn't his to make better. Not this time – the only thing he had could never be repaired. But if he took her in, made her his, adopted her as a friend, as a partner, could he succeed in fixing her? He had tried before and failed – the evidence of his failure was sleeping in the other room. But could he make her better?
He was alive.
He couldn't stay here. He wanted to move – to run. Every movement, every breath that was being taken in the other room made him uncomfortable. He jumped up, grabbing his pants and his shirt – but he didn't button it. Barefoot he left the room, desperate to go somewhere. Dimly, he was reminded of the old him, who left whenever things got too stuffy for him. The feelings then were the same now – but he wasn't planning on running away. Not just yet. He had things that needed to be done, and, despite his nature, he wasn't going to let this feeling get to him. He wasn't running away – he was running to.
He was fire.
The more he ran, the more he felt the fire burning in him, screaming for attention. It was burning him up inside, and he had to get rid of it, had to use it. Anything, anyone, he had to give it away, to share this intense feeling of life with someone else. Someone who had no life in them – he knew just the person. She needed to feel something, to know that life was still worth living, that the burning she felt inside her wasn't pain, but something to take pleasure in. Take pleasure in the fact that she was alive – because if she didn't, she wouldn't be alive much longer.
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