Blunt

Erzaizen

His eyes followed two silhouettes, one felt oddly familiar to him. The scenery twisted, and changed, and blurred in and out; yet he was in a trance, unconscious of his frozen state. Words disappeared from the tip of his tongue like the dawn would when the moon surfaces. His throat was a dry tunnel of choking pain, focusing his vision to her face.

He knows who she is. He always does. The soft gleam in her eyes, which disappear into two thin slits when she laughs; her naturally tan skin, a tawny mix of caramel and honey. The way her wavy hair would fall around her face like it was meant to be there, framing the heart shaped outline. He would plant kisses and pecks on her puffy cheeks, and blushes would crept their way in, betraying her accusing words. He would wrap her fingers with his own and stare at the smile she unconsciously forms. She was his blessings, a true gift from the God himself.

A malicious pang took over his heart. Where his fingers are supposed to be, there rest another hand - of another man. He was invisible to the both of them. He was invisible to her.

She flung her arms around his shoulders, and tightly hugged him, a stranger yet also a close friend. He closed his eyes in fear of seeing what he didn't want to see. Her smile, directed at another man, a loving expression shown to another boy. He felt his heartbeat quickened and his breath hitched. If pain was supposed to feel like that, he wouldn't dare to say he had been in pain before. It was quick, and endless, returning a milisecond after it disappeared. It was torturous, and not ghastly like he had imagined - he was fully alive, but he didn't dare to live. The image of her falling in love with another man haunted him from the back of his mind, reminding him that nothing is eternal. Nothing is forever.

If you want to have the most perfect life, have nothing. Nothing never breaks, or shatters, nor bends. When you have nothing, you have everything.

A sharp pain struck right through the center of his forehead, a vilainous impact throwing his balance off. It felt like the whole world pointed their fingers at him and pushed him back from that one point. Falling back, he frantically tried to reach out to her, trying to grab her arms - yet darkness, a vast dimension of emptiness, it greeted him, and fear overwhelmed his senses.

He jerked up and threw away the thick blanket which has tangled him, almost choking him to death in his uneasy sleep. Sweats dripped down from every inch of his skin, the damp smell filling the cold night air. Streaks of tears decorated his face, along with a frown and a half-hanging jaw. He felt terrified. He felt numb, or the product of being numb for too long - his chest seized up and down without a rythm. Clutching his shirt, desperation ate him alive.

●●○●●

He avoided going to college that day.

The nightmare he had in the night before hasn't let go of its grip on his mind. It keeps nagging, back and forth, until he would take another aspirin and a sip of lukewarm water. He puts out his fingers and counted, four. I have swallowed four tablets and this headache isn't leaving at all.

He lies restless on his bed, changing his positions every few minutes. By now, classes must have ended, and the college students must have gone back to their lairs. He nervously takes out his phone and dialed a number he holds close to his heart, even if he's in the brink of death.

A voice picked up his call, a sickly sweet ripples of sensation washed over him. "Hello?"

"I'm coming to your place."

He hung up right after, the heat and cold never leaving his body.

●●○●●

She looked ecstatic and worried when their eyes met. He was relieved to find that his nightmare is still a nightmare. A dream, something that he hopes will never happen. Ever.

"Why didn't you attend college today?" Her slender fingers reached out to carress his cheeks. She was dead worried, fearing that he might have fallen sick or in a dead or live situation. He does seem pale, though, with his usually rosy cheeks and smiling lips replaced by a shadeless ones and a quivering sad smile.

Instead of answering, he startled her with an unexpected question. "You're not leaving me, right?"

She blinked. "No?"

Gritting his teeth, he forced a small, uneasy chuckle, "I don't ever want you to leave me. You're the best thing that has ever come into my life. You're the only one who faithfully waited for me and made me fall for you. You're this one confident and fragile girl I always want to keep by my side. For me only. I want you for me only, no, I need you to be mine only. I---"

"I'm not leaving at all," she cuts his rambling, a fierce and tender stare drilling back at his eyes. The way her black orbs glistened, and reflected her motherly personality, he wants it to be his exclusive sight only. He wants to claim every inch of her body and soul, savoring them, embracing the very existence of perfection in her. He wants her to solely be... his property.

His body acted before his mind could process what he's doing. He turned the key, locked the entrance, and kissed her - his carnal instinct screamed orders at him to attack her weakest spots, taking her by surprise. He slowly pushed her back inside to the small apartment room, his lips not letting go of the moment. At first it was only a smack on the lips, an exchange of body temperature from the surface of his dry lips against her plump and soft one. The moment she tried to breathe, again, his desire won over his actions, and he parted open her mouth, claiming over her tongue. The last time they had done this, she tried to close back her mouth and ended up biting his tongue.

But at the moment, their burning lust became one; they danced like the most professional fencer, fighting over dominance, a show where the two of them are the main stars. She tastes sweeter and sweeter the more he tries to dig deep into her mouth, and their bodies pressing together didn't exactly help taming the flame. She is his. His and his only.

Her moan awakened him from his transfixed state, triggering a chain of reaction he has been trying to suppress. They are a mess, a frenzy mix of saliva and tears. His eyes are crying, tears sliding down his cheeks. She is his only salvation. His only rock. He couldn't afford losing her to anyone.

His hand snuck inside her shirt, the soft feeling against his skin real. Groping over her breasts, he buried his nose into the crannies of her neck, inhaling her scent. Is it possible to eat someone alive? If it's possible, he would like to have her.

She felt a tingling sensation all over her body, the spots he touches becoming hot. She yearns for more. He has never been as passionate and bold, and she's surprised at how much she is enjoying his agressive attacks. It's as if he's trying to drown her, and she happily obliges.

"Don't leave. Please. Never," he pleaded, desperation and agony laced his words thick. She listened, an unknown emotions touched her; and she whispered back, before succumbing to the pleasure and going blank.

"Never."