Let's set fire to the rain

Let's set fire to the rain

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WpMetadataReadOngoing1h 18m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Jul 21, 2017
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Fiction
Romance
He was the calming rain to my fiery temper. He was the soothing waters to my battered heart. He was the raging downpour to my dirty ugly world. Washing away all the brokenness and despair. When I blurted this out to him one night in one of my worked up frenzied outbursts, all I'd wanted to do was run and hide under a rock till idk....forever. But after a second of just staring at me shocked he'd grabbed me around the waist and murmured against my neck that I lit his soul on on fire. Inspired him to see the world in deeper and brighter color. He said his life often looked dull and gray. But I somehow seemed to instinctively know when the darkness creeped up on him and would crash in weather he wanted me to or not and make his life vibrant and colorful , pulsing with life. I was his light when everything els seemed dark and unwelcoming. "Well I'll stop boring you with mushy stuff and just tell you our story of fire and rain" - Phoenix
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#874
drugs
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Heaven

He's my secret. My deepest temptation. My forbidden desire. And my father's best friend. After spending five months on the road from city to city, blasting the sound of my vintage Mustang with my "outdated music", all I wanted was to return home and figure out what my next step would be. I wasn't really interested in complicating my life any more than it already is. But then I met him. At a roadside bar, as unexpected as it seems, I walked up to him as a joke; a little game. It was like instant death: his deep green eyes, his dark chestnut hair and seductive smile. His kiss. And then he was gone, convincing me it all would become only a good memory at the back of my mind, and I would never see him again. It turns out I couldn't be more wrong. Suddenly, the man who had set my whole body on fire with just a kiss is not only living next door, but is, too, my dad's high school best friend and the father of my first crush from ninth grade. With this secret burning between us, every look is like the most pleasurable of sins; every touch is like a certain damnation. It can never happen. And it only makes me want it more.

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