Breathless
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- Votes 1
- Parts 1
His form mystified into the moon light as his tranlucent skin melted. It moulded into the form of the gentle ray of sun. Glowing with the ferocity of a candle.
Gentle, tempting and sweet. But most of all selfless.
The son of a demon he called himself but I can hardly believe it to be true for behind his hard mask was veiled a form of innocence. It was the face and I knew my destiny was sealed, tied to this mystical being that stood in front of me. I was his.
Forever.
Enchanted by the breathlessness of his form. Entranced by the beauty of his heart as I walked to him, taking his hand in mine.
"Breathless"
And he smiled at me with the joy of eternity for he knew what I meant. He knew he left me breathless.
Just as he had told me the first time we met. In that same deep masculine growl that he used to say the next words to me. As if in pain and disbelief.
"Forever"
And we knew.
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"Get over yourself," I spit, twisting away from him, slamming the crate closed with a sharp motion. "I'm not here for you. I'm not interested in whatever game you think you're playing." But my voice cracks on the last word. Damn it. I hate that I can't keep my cool around him. "You're lying." He steps even closer, his chest almost brushing against my back. I can feel every inch of him now, and it's almost too much. My breath hitches as I fight to maintain control, to keep my body from betraying me. "You're just as trapped in this as I am. Whether you want to admit it or not." I can feel the heat of his body radiating against mine, and every nerve in my body is screaming at me to get the hell away from him. But I don't. Instead, I turn around, forcing myself to meet his gaze. His eyes are darker now, intense, unreadable-like he's looking right through me, but I won't let him. "I'm not trapped," I say, my voice trembling with the lie I'm trying to tell myself. "I don't need anyone, least of all you." He watches me for a long beat, the silence stretching between us until it feels like it might snap. Then, finally, he leans in just slightly, his lips brushing against my ear as he speaks. "You're wrong." His voice is low, a whisper just for me. "You may not need me, Yasmine, but you sure as hell want me."
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