Posted:
Hi guys!
I'm hovering near the precipice of a writer's block which is why my posts have been few in the past days. Plus some personal issues.
Anyhow, I decided to write today because if I don't, I'll not be able to for a long, long time, so here goes nothing. I apologise in advance for being repetitive, but I'll try my best to bring up new shades😳
Finally, unable to take the mounting feelings within him that seemed to just about destroy his now-limited sense of self-control, he paced, waiting, waiting for solace in the form of either his friend or...or her. He thought he would be able to read her face like he always thought he could, he thought he would know; he would feel it if there were any life changing decisions she took, right?
But what greeted him was a face, guarded, yet consciously open at his questioning. Alas, he was not to know what she had said, how she had said it, and what she had felt.
All he could see was a pair of eyes wanting to communicate but being unable to.
Could she see the storm brewing behind his cold grey ones?Could she feel the raging heat caress her cool brows?
He felt himself pale at the thought of her having a conversation, a private conversation with his friend, a conversation he was not a part of. What must they have talked about? Why the secrecy?
Questions crowded his mind, questions he knew only she could answer and so, his eyes beseeched hers and demanded answers, yet, she was somehow unable to soothe away the creased questions from between his brows. What rights had they exchanged that he could demand answers from her and she patiently would deliver them?
Finding her alone, looking out towards the water, deep in thoughts he would never know, he felt himself pulled towards her: he needed to know what she had said.
If it was her, he needed to know everything.
But here she was making it difficult, as always.
So he asked her for answers he knew she would know, the first thing in his mind, the subtle ways in which he made clear how well he knew her.
And yet, he persevered until she finally got annoyed and decided to leave, only to be stopped by a touch that seared her arm, a touch she had day-dreamt about for some unknown reason, a touch that had come to mean more than it should have.
He growled at her to use his name, a right that she had not snatched from him after all. It felt too formal to her, and she did not understand that cool man who could easily hurt her, and yet, she did not say anything, nothing at all about leaving her arm, and waited till he continued.
He felt the pulse beneath her skin as clearly as his own, he felt the rush of blood as soon as he touched her, was it hers or his, mingling, almost driving him over the edge of his control?
What was it that made him divulge the uncertainty that he had been feeling ever since his fiancee had mentioned it to him?
Was it because he could no longer afford to keep anything a secret from her?
Did he expect her anger?
He could barely understand why he was taunting her like she had betrayed him, only she was no one for him, wasn't she? Then why did he talk to her as if, as if she'd ruined something special between them, as if, she'd hurt him?
Why did it pinch her to hear these things from his lips?
Why did she react in anger when she realized he had discussed her with his fiancee?
He needed to know, the desperation of it led him to turn his face and his eyes away from her, wanting to hear her answer, and yet, unable to bear it. And she refused, she refused to acknowledge that face, the trembling voice, his barely repressed yearning to hear her voice utter a negative.
She said he could not express his emotions well.
How could he tell her that with every stuttering word and misplaced beat of his heart, he only wished well for her? How could he tell her that with every nervous glance and nightmare, he only wanted her safe, next to him? How could he express out loud, the emotions he barely understood himself?
And so, he simply watched her, because what else could he do?
What else could he do but stare at this firebrand who had seared his heart, and sent him trembling every time she got injured?
What else could he do but stare silently as she stared back, finally in their world again, lost together, like two kids trying to find home after a storm they had slept through?
Phew, that's it.
Love to all
Geet
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