There he was, the man who enchanted me with those eyes that burned into mine since our parents had married. Why did it have to come to this? Why did he invite me to peek through the keyhole of his room every night when he knew how I felt? Yes, he felt the same in a teasingly strong way with not just our eyes and bodies deeply connecting and responding, but our hearts whispering to each other of their aches from the wretched reality of our dormant destiny.
Oh, make this pain stop. Yet my heart and body were quite the stubborn pair. What did his lips taste like? How did his skin feel against mine? Six months of agony and struggle, and we failed to bond in the way new brothers typically would. Sure, we should have, to ease this evil transition. Could there still be a shot of some kind of romance? I always had believed in everlasting love; I still do. Yes, there he was, letting me watch... and letting me love for as long as he loved me.
YOU ARE READING
Tamely Told
Historia CortaA homoerotic romance anthology of tastefully written flash fiction stories.
