Poison is Sweeter than Sugar.

Source of Sexiness

Darkness cascades over the horizon, as the waves turn to a violent dance. Gradually, the sea declares a truce, after their monarch, the moon, makes his ascent. Silver reflections blanket a part of the sea, in a long, straight line, straight towards my bare toes, buried half in the soft sand. My ears perk up at the sound of a gentle voice, pronouncing my name. The instinct tells me not to turn, movement breaks the spell. Standing perfectly still, only my ears take the liberty to listen again, make sure its not a figment of my imagination. But I face the unexpected. A finger tapping, which at first felt like a sickening blow, making my instinct to turn weak and frail, causing them to turn me around.

But my opinion of a mesmerising sight, gazing at the waves, got lost..hypnotized by a source of great sexiness. Thank you moon, for putting a spotlight on him. Deep curls occupied in a tuft above his forehead, made my fingers itch, to feel every dark lock of his hair, in a good way. I fixed my gaze upon his eyes, and I was lost for words, his pupils the colour of emerald and sea blue, making his face alight like a comforting candle. I wanted that comfort. My eyes passed over his temples, making a trace down his sharp, chiselled jaw line. I wanted my fingers, my palm, to feel that, like passing my finger tips over a sharp edge of a knife. Almost as if I want them to bleed, bleed red, like the colour of love. True love.

Once again, he pronounced my name, in that melting tone, so deep, so alluring. With every second, my heart yearned so much to stay at this moment in time, let his voice captivate me forever. Now it was my turn to speak. I had to. Let him know, how much love I was offering to him. But my mouth wavered some other words, not the words my mind had functioned me to say. "How do you know my name?"

In reply he let out a light laugh, and it was embedded into the back of my mind. "I know all about you." If this was some ordinary creep, making a major attempt to date me, I would have let the authorities  know, since the moment he pronounced my name.  But to me, he was someone  else. Someone who would love you till the day you die. No, even after the day you die. How do I know this? Because my instinct  is vulnerable to this figure. This figure of such power, as if he had cast a spell, which would be unbreakable, even by him.