how soon is now? || w. a rose [i/v]

ANDY X [E]

He kind of just stumbled into it. I think that was my favourite part, he just saw an open opportunity and took it, which I think is who Axl is. He's always been like that.

Did you say yes straight away?

I didn't hesitate. No way in hell, he's the love of my life. I'd never change it. He's one of the kindest, enthusiastic, intelligent, loving men I have ever met...and I can see by your face that you don't believe me. But, you just don't know him like I do. Truly, if you all bothered to know him and love him as I do, you'd all want to marry him.

I couldn't think of a better man to marry. God I've known worse.

// Interview with Andy Bernow, 1990

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w. nsfw, reference to drug abuse, reference to past domestic abuse

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It felt like time had stopped moving, the glass clock on the south facing wall stopped completely, there were no days or hours or minutes or seconds. The earth had stopped spinning entirely and the stars that glared through the open curtains remained paralysed.

Because that's what she was. She could not move, she was positive of it. Her body was stationery on earth, her stiletto heels wedging into the plush rug and her hand clutched the half empty wine glass in her hand. Her back was fully arched and she could feel her hair brushing against the bare skin of her back from the low cut of her dress.

Or maybe she just didn't want to move, that was highly possible as well because she was also positive that she never ever wanted to leave this moment. She wanted it ingrained into her thoughts forever, in her heart, her blood, her bones and skin. She wanted it to think of it as she fell asleep, for it to haunt her dreams and then to still be thinking about in the daylight.

She was warm, the heater in the corner on full to combat the ever dropping temperature and the flush from the wine was on her cheeks but her body burned. It burned from every single brush of his hands against her skin, his fingertips against her thighs as he snapped the elastic of her stockings and pushed up the hem of her dress. The rough calluses against her inner thigh as she could feel herself get so damn wet.

But that was nothing compared to the fires when he attached his lips to her, the hot flesh so sinful against her own as she felt his tongue pass over teeth and clash with her own. She knew her lipstick was fully smeared across her face, from her cupid's bow to her chin, the same pattern she'd had the night they met. The same shade as well, she didn't know if it was ironic or meant to be.

She looked down at him, his knees dragging into the rug and his cross necklace hanging against the flushed skin of his bare chest. His hands had drawn up her legs, smoothing up her stockings before holding her thighs between them. His touch was firm but it was also so soft and gentle, his thumbs swiping across the silk fabric.

Him. Axl. Axl. Axl. It was all Axl and it was all it ever would be. She would gladly forget all their names and her own to keep remembering his, the easy way the syllable rolled off her tongue whether it was the highest breaths when their lips were locked or deeper shouts when he was out on the balcony, sitting in just jeans even when the weather required heavier sweaters.

She would gladly forget all their names and her own to keep remembering his. For it to be seared across her body and woven into her hair, her DNA, her everything. He was on his knees but he was the one that deserved devotion, to feel the love and adoration she had to give to him.