He found me one night. It was so dark the buildings were afraid of each other and the stars chased the moon through the sky, each afraid of loneliness. It was a night for private hauntings and personal specters. It was a night for him.
"I want to rip off your logic and make passionate sense to you." he whispered hoarsely, breath on neck and an arm around my shoulders.
"I'm sorry." I said sheepishly, looking down to avoid his eyes. "Sensibility forbids that sort of thing."
But he already knew what my response would be. He was ready with a scowl that was all show and a hand that moved slowly to my face, leaning in and letting his cheek brush against mine as he found my ear.
"You have no idea the fallacies we could pick apart … one after another."
He moved to my other ear, nose touching mine as he passed. His hand left my shoulder to brush hair from my eyes.
"The inconsistencies…"
His head dropped a little leaning into mine. Then back up to my ear as he quickly muttered
"The false analogies … and a sample size…"
Eyes gazed straight into mine, a look that wouldn't let me go.
"…of two."
The moon was in his murmur and a question on his lips
I reached out to taste the universe.
I couldn't help myself. I was his and it was wonderful. I never heard from sensibility again. Logic was more elegant with clean smooth lines. He seduced me, utterly and completely. I've never looked back.
When we woke up our hands were still dreaming.