miscellaneous

my lover's stained hands

It's a starless and stormy night. The moonlight- the only thing illuminating my room- streaks in through the slits of each window blind like fine silver threads. The wind outside is a tyrant: it howls mercilessly as it passes, battering drops of rainwater against walls and windows. Trees moan under its pressure; branches crack and snap off of the trunks of the smaller, weaker ones, flying away in whichever direction it is forced. The stronger ones sway about, its leaves rustling recklessly. Others lean precariously at odd angles, ready to be ripped away from its roots by the claws of the ghastly wind.

I lay still on my bed, my back on the mattress, arms crossed over my body, my eyes wide open. I decide to focus on my breathing; how my lungs expand as I breathe in and how they collapse with each exhale. I alter how long I choose to hold each inhale, ascending from one to five seconds before descending. My fabricated serenity soon falters, though- replaced with the increasing tension in my muscles.

I listen out for the world beyond the four corners of my bedroom. The noise is deathly frightening. But the nightmarish weather is the last thing on my mind. I'm waiting for her  to come home.

Her. Thoughts instantly come crashing in, flooding my mind with all things her. Her smooth and seductive voice, her strong facial and physical features, her unique and infectious laughter, her intricate and curious mind. Her strong will, her pile of secrets, her intense and dangerous passion for everything. Good and bad come to mind, from her angelic persona to her devilish power.

The door creaks open. I switch on my bedside lamp; there she is.

She presses her back against the door, closing it. I sit up and observe her for a minute or so as she continues to lean on the door, catching her breath. Probably in a hurry to get out of the storm. I rise and help take her jacket off. It's heavy with rainwater and its normal beige has dampened to a deep, muddy brown.

"Hi," She sighs, a warm smile spreading across her face. She runs her hands through her glimmering dark hair, slicking away wet strands that fall down her pale face and neck. She reaches out for my arm, but I move away before she gets close enough.

"You're late."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

"Again." the word comes out cold and harsh. I don't mean for it to. I put her coat on a hanger and find a place where I know it'll dry.

"Love, I know. I got caught up in the storm," she explains: I scoff in response.

"Hey, you can't seriously be mad at me. Hey-" She turns me around so I'm no longer facing away from her. Her voice is low and soft. She seems exhausted: it amuses me.

I focus on anything else as her cold hands gently cup my face. Her left strokes my right cheek as her right turns my face towards hers, causing me to look into her rich brown eyes. They swallow me whole, consuming me, claiming me.

"Darling, you know I don't like us fighting. I'm here now, okay, so please, ju-" she sighs again and connects her forehead to mine before locking eyes with me once more.

"Just kiss me." she pleads softly before fitting her mouth to mine.

Our lips find their familiar rhythm, slow and meaningful. She guides me towards the bed, laying me down before gliding on top of me. I feel her fingers travel softly from my face to the dip where neck meets collarbone. Although I close my eyes and exhale deeply as she caresses me, I sense almost nothing when she paves a path of kisses from my jaw downwards, or when her fingers skim over my breasts, eventually finding and resting on my waist.

"Stop." I breathe. Her hands continue to travel south, now resting on either side of my hips.

"Stop, please." I practically beg.