Word Prompt: Preserve

Scenario: You are seated in your art room, with all your materials and mediums set up before you. What do you create?


He's talking soul mates and I'm agreeing with him with wild enthusiasm. It's almost other-worldly, the thought that we're destined to be together.

He stirs the longing of wanting to be loved that's been brewing in my heart since when I was a child and I watched Cinderella for the first time.

I'll never forget how magical I thought love must be and how that one day, I would lose myself in it.

That day has arrived.

One hand is on my cheek, his other is still holding mine over his heart.

We're lying facing each other, our breaths mingling as one. His space is my space, it's ours.

My eyelids tickle as the tears threaten to spill.

We just spoke words into feelings, ones that the moved the heart and the mind cared not to question. Words like soulmates were only challenged by others that were still seeking, still wandering, still alone.

These feelings, they're life changing. It's crossing over the ocean and knowing you'll never set foot on that shore again.

And you're happy anyway.

His eyes are all over me; watching, observing, absorbing.

Then he speaks and I want to close my eyes and dream, then I'll choose to never wake up and I'll be right here – forever, with him.

"And you know what else, Bella? You waste lifetimes searching for your other half, and when you're finally reunited, you'll spend lifetimes together, never to be apart again. Eternities even."

I can only hope.

All I know is that I can't contain what I feel, so I move closer.

Our noses touch, our breath speeds. I use my free hand to trace his jaw. The want inside me grows, I feel it everywhere. It's dominating.

This love, this lust, this desire - it's uncontainable.

Our lips touch. Slow and sweet. Savoring. Moves are gentle, like a cautious fawn. Calculated. Holding back.

It's wanting so much that you're scared you just might get it all, and when you do, you won't be able to handle it.

Slowly it's building, moving slightly quicker. Tongues are teasing, daring the other for more.

Then it's freeing. I give it all I got, and he takes and gives in return.

I taste him. I lick his lips, his teeth, his tongue.

I don't think I'm thinking anymore, it's just passion taking over. Human animalism, the instinct you're born with, the one God placed within you. Carnality.

The love is seeping out of my pores.

It's so much, it's everything.

He's over me, pressing down on me. His kiss is fire, his touch is magma.

I hope we never stop.

But too soon we need to breathe. The brain needs oxygen. No lie, his kiss is almost worth dying for.

My fingers are now in his hair, rooted to him.

He's holding himself up with one arm, the other is curled around my neck, fingers teasing my ear.

We're both panting. Our kiss escalated so fast, it broke the sound barrier.

He pushes up, hovering over me.

Now that his lips are away, I feel him. He's hard against my soft. It's the promise of what's to come.

I can't help it, my hips rock into him. Once. Twice. His breath makes a hastily exit from his lungs.

We both like it and want more.

"Bella! You're mom's on the phone!"

He rolls off me as Rosalie beats on my door.

"Tell her I'll call her back," I yell through my disappointment.

We giggle. Then laugh and soon after, I snort. Who the hell knows what's funny.

I sit up and my eyes dart over to the corner. I know what I want to do.

I grab my large sketch book and my tray of pencils and bring them over to the bed.

He's smiling, his cheeks are red, and his hair's a mess. His arms are folded behind his head, it's all I can do to not jump him again.

"Can I draw you?" My voice sounds funny, like I'm still out of breath.

"Of course. How do you want me?"

I raise my eyebrows as many a position flirt though my thoughts. So tempting.

"Sit up." I get up on my knees at the end of the bed. He follows my command.

"Now, take off your shirt."

He smiles. It's wicked and naughty. He's thinking the same thing I am.

Then he slowly unbuttons his shirt. Our eyes are locked. The want is still all over me. Thankfully, this picture shouldn't take me long.

He's shirtless. And beautiful, and I'm not sure that anything man-made can replicate his majesty.

I focus on his chest.

The pencil draws.

The lines crossing and curling.

Next is his shoulder and neck and the meeting of the two.

I have to remove myself, think of it as art and not as sex.

It's not easy.

His jaw, I shade. I remember. I desire to touch it again.

I smile as I color, he's still eying me and smiling in return.

"Why are you drawing me?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

"Preserving," I answer, "Somethings I never want to forget."


A/N: I always wanted to write a kiss like that. I love when you review & tell me your favorite parts! !