~: I was listening to the song "Till It Happens to You" by Corinne Bailey Rae and this just popped into my head. Hope you like it.
Till it happens
Monday
He knows that this is a mistake but he just can't bring himself to care. He kisses her like his life depends on it, kisses her until he feelings like he's suffocating from lack of air. He knows what's about to happen, knows that they're about to cross a line that neither ever thought they would. He can sense her apprehension as he feels her pull away, giving them much needed air, giving them a chance to stop this. He can see the doubt and uncertainty in her eyes, as well as the lust and want. He watches her mouth open, and knows what she's about to say, but doesn't let her. He needs this; needs to forget who he is, needs to truly lose himself, needs something more than a nameless one night stand, needs to feel anything but the numbness that has been eating through his body. He needs her, needs this moment. He pulls her back to him, brings his lips to hers and seals their fate.
Tuesday
She lays awake in bed, her brain refusing to let her sleep. Thoughts of him fill her mind as the ache within her body becomes more difficult to ignore. She wants to call him, wants to have him here beside her but she can't. Can't let this become more than it should. She shakes her head in vain, trying to rid herself of these thoughts. For the seventh time that night she tries to convince herself that she doesn't need the warmth of his skin against hers to be lulled asleep, but the 5 sleepless nights she's had this week prove otherwise. She reaches for the phone; her fingers linger over the buttons wanting but unwilling to dial his number. Time feels as if it is slowly crawling pass, mocking her by forcing seconds to feel like hours. She yells in frustration as she throws a pillow off the bed; she imagines it making a loud crashing sound when it hits the floor instead of a dull thud.
She turns to reach for the phone again but stops the instant she hears her doorbell. Immediately she hopes, no, she knows that it's him. She hastily flings the covers off her as she rushes out of the room, not bothering with slippers or a robe. There's a second knock before she's able to reach the entry way. She pauses for a moment and asks herself whether she should answer. But before her conscious mind could settle on a decision she finds her hand already opening the door. He's standing there in a long coat and sleeping pants. She moves to let him in. Neither says a word as they head to her bedroom. He removes his coat to reveal his t shirt then drops it somewhere along the way. She climbs onto the bed with him closely behind her. As his arms surround her she suddenly finds herself unable to keep her eyes from closing. And as sleep quickly takes hold of them, they find themselves both still refusing to dwell on the meaning behind their sleepless nights apart.
Wednesday
The moment he enters the apartment he immediately knows that it is going to be one of those days. It doesn't take long for an argument to commence. Seconds later the yelling starts, just like it always does, and soon afterwards objects begin soaring through the room. As a vase collides into the wall behind him he wonders for the hundredth time why he doesn't simply walkout. What is it that won't allow him to leave her like this, lost in her own rage? He finds himself unwilling to answer his own questions, unwilling to delve into the truth that he has been running from for weeks now.
He ignores his nagging thoughts as he ducks seconds before a candle stick comes hurtling pass him. His mind returns to the woman in front of him as he tries to reach her, tries to figure out what is wrong. He watches as she moves through the apartment like a tornado picking up and destroying anything within her path. She turns for a moment and he seizes the opportunity to lunge towards her. He knocks the small statue from her hand and finally grabs hold of her arms. He tightens his hold as she struggles to break free. He pleads for an explanation, a reason, anything, but instead of giving him an answer she pulls one of her arms free and punches him squarely in the face. His nose hurts like hell but still he refuses to let go of her. She twists and turns but he only uses their shift in position to grab her from behind. His arms wrap around her waist pulling her against him as he holds her arms down. She continues to struggle, trying but unable to breakaway from him. She yells and curses but he simply whispers softly to her. She struggles harder trying to hold on to her fury but within minutes he feels her begin to calm down. She's suddenly quiet leaving only his whispers to fill the room. He can't see her face but knows that right now her eyes are closed as she gradually begins to accept his embrace. He soon feels her hands touch his arms, holding onto him as tightly as he is holding onto her. He can feel as she takes a deep breath and knows that she's trying to compose herself, trying to quiet the emotions raging inside her. It sometimes frightens him how well he's come to know and understand her.
He kisses the side of her head and stands there just holding her for a moment longer. He feels her shifting in his arms and loosens his grip to allow her to face him. Her hands come to rest against his chest and what he discovers in her eyes surprises him. Hovering clear within swirls of grey, blue, and green is remorse. He bits back his smile knowing she probably doesn't want to hear how endearing she looks right now. He kisses her lips and feels her hands travel up his chest and around his neck. He pulls away from her and stares into her eyes once more.
A buried thought, without permission, suddenly becomes a low whisper. They both stand frozen as the words circle around them slowly closing in. The letters caress their skins with both sharp and soothing edges, threatening harm but offering hope. A second passes then another as the ticking of the clock becomes the only sound around them. She is the first to move, the first to pull away. He doesn't stop her, doesn't try to explain or recant his confession. He already knows what thoughts are running through her mind; already knows that the fear he can easily see in her eyes is mirrored in his own. He knows that they can't go on pretending to be oblivious anymore. Now all that is left to decide is whether to stay or run. Without even speaking he knows what'll happen.
Knows that they'll both choose to run.
TBC
I'm still working on the other days, but I should be done by next week.
Review and let me know what you think of it so far. :)