binded

zane ; electric blood

The entire situation that occurs when Grace walks into the room is one that I frankly cannot remember. It feels more like when I got high, where I could remember bits and pieces, but the puzzle wasn't complete. My memory turned more to when we continued to read, then she stopped. She had her hand on top of mine and slowly leaned closer to me, as we connected like magnets. This turned into hand holding, and eventually so much more.

By the time that we both set down our books, Grace practically lunged towards me, her fingers threaded through my obsidian hair. Before I could connect two and two together, my hands were on her hips and she climbed on top of me.

Everything about it felt mechanical. Not like she forced herself, but we were robots. Programmed to touch each other the way that we did, kiss how we were. It makes me realize that humans are just big machines. No, really, we've got billions of them inside of us, our cells are nothing more than pieces of code. Grace's coding gives her soft black hair, long, graceful limbs, a nose that scrunches when she laughs. The coding in my cells says "girl" where it ought to say "boy", and it says "Grace" where it ought to say everything else. Grace Grace Grace Grace Grace. A haze befalls her eyes and I know that her coding has hit a stutter too, that her blood cells are sending her brain nothing but Zane Zane Zane Zane.

Some would even say that there was a spark. Electricity coursed through our veins and with each time we touched, a tiny static charge would be unleashed upon each other.

Each instant that she would gently tug at my hair, I would pull her closer to my own body. I could tell that she wanted more, even as her hand crawled under my baggy top. Her soft hand grazed from my stomach and the sync was broken. She was too close to my binder, she couldn't know.

I reached up and grabbed her wrist as we continued to kiss. She seemed to get the hint and didn't try to touch me there again. Which was a relief.

However, whatever controls time (because frankly, time is just an idea) was against us and she began to panic over how her mother would be home in five minutes and that I had to get the hell out before she was seen with a boy in her room.

I had to collect myself, and fast. Grace shoved the book into my hands and gave me one last kiss before I was climbing out her window and dashing to my car. As I touched the handle, I felt a static shock and chose to ponder over it.

Maybe my blood isn't a shit ton of random cells that flow through my veins and arteries. Instead, it must be an electric current. As opposed to veins, I have wires that navigate through my body and keep me energized.

Grace must have the same electricity.