"I'll break down your walls one by one and sneak into the gates of your icy heart before crushing it into tiny pieces." He murmurs mercilessly as his lips lightly brush my ear, the contact eliciting an indescribable sensation through every inch of m...
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I don't think I've ever known or understood the concept of love.
In college, the dormant feelings I believed to have for Ludovic were evolving.
In the naivety of my teenage mind, I was convinced my feelings could only equate to a sense of want and admiration for a guy who came from a completely different world from mine.
Our time together, however, was cut short in a cruel twist of fate, which affected the embryonic feelings I was beginning to develop for him over time.
After we went our separate ways, I rejected love as a concept and dedicated the next years of my life to prioritizing success, entrepreneurship, wealth and self-dependency.
What was the point of believing in love when the rulers of fate deprived me of it?
But as I find myself in the arms of he who once influenced my past cynical views on love, it's ironic that this same concept is the only word I can use to describe what I presently feel for him.
Ludovic Delmore.
The man I have completely fallen in love with.
And the scary part is the feelings aren't slowing down, for they only seem to keep growing, transcending the boundaries of my control.
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks, adding a layer to the already complicated dynamic between us.
Do things have to be complicated?
Or are you self-sabotaging by creating complexities that don't exist?
Our lips part so we can catch our breath.
Our chests heave up and down in an asynchronous pace.
Once I gently open my eyes, I'm reminded of my surroundings.
I will do anything to pause time and remain in this moment for as long as needed.
The way he looks at me is enough to transport me to another dimension.
His eyes study me in intricacy and endearment, expressions I don't think I've ever seen on his face.
I find myself wanting to close the distance between us once more.
As if reading my mind, his lips hover over mine, and I come alive.
He continues his slow caresses, his mouth inviting me to prolong this beautiful madness that we've created.
I raise my fingers to press them against his cheek, enjoying the sensation of his facial hair beneath my fingertips.
Like the first round, the second round escalates rapidly, and I widen my mouth in adjustment to keep up with his pace.
In desperation, I'm hoping to convey my deepest feelings to him through this kiss. I'm hoping he can decipher my newfound emotions through each caress.
