AUTHOR:justeastofeccentric
January 25th, 2014
Finger tips and toes and hands that gripped and stroked. The world was touch, the feel of fingers stroking skin and breath ghosting on that hand.
Finger tips and toes and hands that held close and pushed away. My world was touch, the brushing of fingers against his cheek, the light kiss he pressed to my knuckles.
It may have been snowing outside but it was warm and dry inside.
Finger tips and hands that pulled me in and pushed me away. Little smiles one minute and tears the next.
Arthur was special.
Arthur was different.
He didn't always understand. But that was okay.
He was uptight and grumpy and witty and so very normal. At least that's what he seemed like; but under all the sarcasm and pristine dress shirts, he was different. He was special.
But that was okay. And I loved him anyway.
Finger tips and little giggles that turned to fists and yelling, it was okay. Pressing my lips to his, he always melted into it, and that's how I knew.
Under the confusion and lust and frustration and desperate need to try, I knew he loved me.
And I loved him. I loved his every smile and laugh and quirk and I loved all the things he did. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way his hand trailed down my forearm in affection. The way his finger tips lingered on my arm or forehead or cheek.
Finger tips…
Finger tips and soft hands and pleasantly pink cheeks, flushed in the cold air.
Finger tips and toes and clever, delicate hands that created intricate designs into whatever fabric he chose. Finger tips and toes and perpetually cold hands that wormed their way into mine.
It was cold outside, but it was warm inside and I pulled him close to me and wrapped us in a cocoon of blankets. I kissed his forehead and he cupped my cheek fondly. I took his hand in mine and I kissed it.
I kissed each finger tip, each knuckle and his palm. I leaned forward, holding his hand to my chest and I kissed his cheek.
He whispered my name and I kissed him on his lips.
He melted into it, and I knew.