He is the embodiment of two ideals; one of power, the other, poise. Not many could do that, as one would sacrifice the other. One might say that he is the cruellest, most powerful of them all; I will not interject. They are right. Blind they maybe since he too has a side no one dared to venture into. A side where there exists a fairy tale in the body of a grown man. A side where he desperately hid from the eyes of the world, for the fear of being ridiculed. The side I was only able to catch a glimpse into whenever he was vulnerable.
The way he carried himself, so poignant and dignified. Every head will turn to look the way he walked, as it is mesmerizing to the eyes. His steps carefully placed one in front of the other, his cane adding to the effect of the way he walked. His legs, strong and sturdy, yet lithe and nimble, accentuated by the excellent tailoring of his countrymen. Erotic. Those pair of legs that I ever so wanted to split and placed myself between.
The greens of his alluring eyes, so much green that it made Mother Nature green with envy. They say the eyes are the window to the soul; they are right. Stoic as he presented himself to be, his eyes never failed to tell me the truth every single time. The joy that he felt, his eyes would sparkle to rival his pearly whites. Dull green meant something hurt him. Vibrant green would mean that he is panicking. He usually never noticed the beautiful shades of green he created, and every time I would tease him about being so readable, he never knew how deeper I fell into the depths of this love.
His voice, so sweet that I would not mind listening to it every day for the rest of my eternal life. The voice I have blissfully acquainted to for the last thousand years. His voice so melodic and harmonious, I would think that he had painfully practised having it sway the way it did. A voice so titillating, it would send me to the sky, space, and even further beyond the stars. The echo of his voice would wake me up at night, having it repeating in me like a broken record.
Imagining him underneath me, his legs splayed in the air, his eyes looking up at me with tears pooling, threatening to overflow, his voice moaning and screaming my name as if it was the only word he only knew about, filled me with a carnal desire that would consume me. Time and time again I reminded myself to not give in to the temptation, but my body would not comply. It has a mind of its own. Though I am a proud Catholic, I could not stop myself from sinning in the eyes of my Lord. I do not own him, but when I do, I'd-
"Fancy a drink, Francis?"
"Just a minute, Artie-poo. Got to finish writing this down."
Damn, my train of thought was interrupted by the devil himself. Oh well, there will be plenty of time to imagine all the sinful things I would want to do to him. But for now, time for a drink.