In the reposed moment, I could have easily ripped the white button-up shirt from his perspired body. As though a pit of hot coals rested deep in my core, I felt the desire slip across my mind smoother than silk yet course like sand paper. My stare fixed on his lips, I could only dream of how soft they would feel dragging over the skin of my neck. I feened for the texture of his back as my nails clawed gently. Each time his chest rose with a breath, it would outstretch inches from mine. I could have asked him if he was aware of the situation he had put himself in, and I could have not only ripped his shirt, but his chest and the components hidden beneath it.
I should have pinned his body to the hollow wall, the thud of his back harshly pressing into the Sheetrock so fulfilling. I should have woven my fingers throughout his unkept hair, whispered evil nothings into his ears, and tasted his skin at the tip of my tongue.
Within my reach he stood. I held the chance to delve inside my imagination and become creative, yet I retained at ease. "Just you and I now, lover." I would have said.
I could observe the hard swallows, assuming that he was attempting to flush down a lump collected by the nervousness. I knew the excitement provided an unwanted sickness within him, and I knew that his mind was overridden with a hurricane of questions.
It was all in the expressions displayed through the lust in his jade eyes. The bags beneath his lower lids fed me a thousand excuses, and the fire red painting the tip of his button nose melted any remaining humanity I possessed. I was stood too close to him, I was within harm's reach.
I wanted desperately to pull the tendons and the ligaments, hearing them snap loose. I craved the white of his bones, clean cuts so deep that they forget to spill blood. In that still moment, I wanted to tear apart the human before me and lay to daydream in the remains.
