I'll make this brief. Not that you can really pick them out, this is an
Oliver/Harry piece. No infringement intended. Archive anywhere you want,
just gimmie some credit.
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Acceptance
Haunting. A beautiful Irish brogue. The softest of breaths. His voice makes me shiver.
Hard. Lean. Planes and muscles. Hidden under layers and layers. His body calls to me.
The slightest upturn. The briefest flash. Sunshine peeking from behind the clouds. His mouth makes mine water.
A word. A movement. A smile. All this he gives freely, yet I am not content. I want more. Demand more. Need more.
My knees weaken when I sense his presence. I stutter, and he almost smiles. I blush foolishly. I know he's not ignorant, merely understanding. I hate it.
A feather light touch on my shoulder. A compliment, 'Good practice,' he says. I am disappointed, though I hide it well.
He comes slowly toward me. I unconsciously hold my breath. He pats me gently as he passes. Passes. Sits down. Casually extends an arm around another, a girl I've never spoken to. Will never speak to.
I shouldn't be surprised. I'm not, really. Acceptance is the step, they say. He sends a glance my way. Understand, it almost begs me. I stand to leave. Nod my acceptance gracefully. Life goes on.
I cry myself to sleep at night. Naturally.
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Acceptance
Haunting. A beautiful Irish brogue. The softest of breaths. His voice makes me shiver.
Hard. Lean. Planes and muscles. Hidden under layers and layers. His body calls to me.
The slightest upturn. The briefest flash. Sunshine peeking from behind the clouds. His mouth makes mine water.
A word. A movement. A smile. All this he gives freely, yet I am not content. I want more. Demand more. Need more.
My knees weaken when I sense his presence. I stutter, and he almost smiles. I blush foolishly. I know he's not ignorant, merely understanding. I hate it.
A feather light touch on my shoulder. A compliment, 'Good practice,' he says. I am disappointed, though I hide it well.
He comes slowly toward me. I unconsciously hold my breath. He pats me gently as he passes. Passes. Sits down. Casually extends an arm around another, a girl I've never spoken to. Will never speak to.
I shouldn't be surprised. I'm not, really. Acceptance is the step, they say. He sends a glance my way. Understand, it almost begs me. I stand to leave. Nod my acceptance gracefully. Life goes on.
I cry myself to sleep at night. Naturally.