Knock Knock

I feel like this could be awesome if I was a better writer.

 

There’s a knock at the door.  I’m happily just leafing through the www.  I get up out of bed to answer.  Music thumping slow and sexy in the background.  There’s a beautiful man outside my door.  The kind of man I was just wishing for.

“Can I help you?”  My eyes never leave his lips.  Just holding my breath and waiting for his answer.  He doesn’t.  He doesn’t say a word.  Just stares at me.  Somewhere in his gaze is a fire burning hotter than the fires of hell.  Its just burning slowly, slight flickers to the sound of my heartbeat.  Thumping harder every second.

“Is there something you need?”   Fire climbs and burns even hotter as his lips quirk up sideways.  He grins and nods his head, just a tiny movement really.  But I’m so aware of every single detail.  Standing taller, dripping with this feral stalking grace.

He brushes my whole body as he pushes his way in.  Every nerve ending awake and thrumming.  Its so hard to breathe, I’m suffocating from his nearness, but I close the door anyway.  There’s this fear in me, that somehow he already owned a piece of me.  Some small part of me I would never get back.

Standing by the door, not daring to move.  He knows right where I am.  I can’t make a move, or he’ll pounce.  He’ll rip me apart a thousand different ways.  I’ll never find all my pieces.  Once I move, my whole being would be reshaped.  I would live in this new reality, be it heaven or hell.

The song ended, and there was this deafening silence.  A moment paused.  This heat and awareness building.  His eyes staring into mine.  I exhaled.

His hand landed on my neck, holding me still, so still as his face drew closer to mine.  A new song began as his lips descended to mine.  Slowly, every press light as an angel’s kiss. I couldn’t catch my breath as his lips and breath and tongue stole my soul.  Seducing it out of my body.  One slow inch at a time.

My body shivered as his hand traced cracks into my skin, exposing the nothingness that burrowed underneath.  Shredding me and tearing me apart.  My hands fists in his hair as I climb his body, desperate to reach somewhere higher, so I can hide and keep a piece of myself.

A reminder to myself of who I was the moment before he pushed inside me, and filled me with his fire.  To wake up on the other side, in heaven, or hell?

My fingernails are burrowed into the skin of his back, holding on to something as hard as I could, so I didn’t fly off into space.  Finding I was grounded now to the most center part of myself.  A new world being born in that one connection.

Friction so intense the flames grew hotter,  I sob as I give birth to a new universe.

Spasming, I yield.  I forfeit.  I bow to my new master.

Its just that I feel like I’ve been living my whole life under a rock.  And only now, am I trying to figure out life.  I had to rearrange it, all of my molecules.  Putting pieces back in their correct places.  Finally putting the pieces back where they belonged all along.  The scrambly feeling of a bad audio wave fading away with each new sensation.

Sliding back down his body, I accepted the fact that someone had had to die.  That someone was me.  I slid down into this madness where I burned from the fires of his hell.  Finding that these fires burned me to my purest element, where I felt holy, above the pains of hell.

There he was, this great beast of fire, who had snatched my soul with his kiss.  Shrugging back into his clothes, straightening his shoulders he shifts his hands, tucking my soul into a pocket.

I knew there was a great battle to be waged.  I looked forward to each and every skirmish on the way to the end.  The big blow-out.  The moment I exploded into nothingness.  Obliterated by the only heat I had ever known.  Expelled from existence by the one thing I craved.

 

 

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Author: doing2016

I started writing when I was very young. Then I was mortified on a bus full of people when one of my stories was read aloud. I lost my focus and quit. Now, I'm trying to find my voice and my ambition. I love to write, good or bad. So, I'm doing it here and now. Thank you.

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