She motioned for him to sit down on the edge of her bed. Slowly, precariously he perched himself there.
"I'm glad you came," her eyes never left his, never faltered, it seemed they no longer needed to blink. Afraid to miss a moment; but then again there was no fear. There was only complete control. As if she was consciously directing each individual cell in her eye to bear into the depths of him. He felt transparent. Utterly vulnerable; like being in an open field fifty miles each way with a tornado looking him in the face. Shit. He knows she knows. He knows that she sees it in him, his love. There, in a dark, uncharted corner of his mind... and he thought it was safe there...
Trying to pry his eyes from hers was like trying to breathe underwater. Each futile attempt, each single breath left him weakened and in pain.
He felt her press a warm and damp object into his palm. She enclosed his fingers around it. A smooth, hot liquid spread between his fingers, and dripped down his forearm. He desperately longed to know what it was; each second that her gaze tore through him was like an eternity of torture.
"If you let go, she said, a malicious grin forming across her perfect lips, "I'll die."
With that she looked at the object in his had, tearing her eyes from his, causing him to let out a rush of air he was unaware he was holding in. He too, in turn, looked to his had, now covered in moisture and choked back a scream.
Her laughter echoed in the empty room as her heart began to beat in his hand.
Created: Jul 30, 2010Document Media