To kiss in the dark is to lose oneself completely. Sensations rule and nerve endings awaken like anemones in the blackest of oceans, undulating in the surge. In the dark, all are beautiful. Fear and uncertainty recedes until only pleasure remains. The absence of light creates true connections as fingers, lips, tongues explore the hidden realms, realms that are forbidden when illuminated.
To Gene the darkness was as a blessing. The relief of the last votive candle wavering then dying, plunging him into darkness and finally allowing him to pray. To kiss Alex was to touch beauty and pay homage to a God he hated but pleaded with for release. To have her die in his arms, then live and breathe; then kiss him – that was proof of a higher power. As soft sighs drifted on the air he gave thanks.
Alex trembled as he returned her kiss. It had been a purely instinctive thing to do – kiss this man, this arrogant, irritating, compassionate, beautiful man who would lay down his life for her without a moment's thought. In the darkness she could make him understand. She could breathe life into him, offer all she had and force him to believe in her, to accept what she had to give. She kissed his eyes, his brow, his throat, always returning to his mouth, again and again. See me. Feel me. Love me.
To kiss in the dark is to lose oneself completely, only to find the missing part of your soul.