Intimacy: It's what He wanted
She sat there on the cold concrete floor staring at her bared feet. Every once in a while she would look up. He hadn't moved. He sat across the room about ten feet from her. Quickly, she looked back at her feet. A cold chill had come over her. How she longed for something warm: a blanket or a jacket. All she was wearing was a faded t-shirt. He wasn't saying anything and it was making her uncomfortable. She pulled her arms around her body tighter.
Why did she have to make the next move? She didn't think she would turn away if he came to her. Stubborn, that's what she was. Just plain stubborn. He could have left her presence. He didn't have to stay, but he sat down, giving her some space, reminding her that it was her move. Intimacy? Is that what he wanted?
Did he really want to get closer? Maybe he was content to sit and watch her. Did she really believe that? Was she deaf? Vaguely she remembered his words. No, he wasn't content to sit across the room. He wanted more.
She looked up again. This time it was his eyes that stopped her. Deep blue eyes. She remembered how hard it was in the past to resist his captivating gaze. Still she felt, once again , like a hypocrite. Shame was creeping in and telling her that she was imagining things.
NO! She put her head in her hands. Believing the lies was ludicrous. She knew the truth. If she gathered the strength to get up, running to him wouldn't be a problem. She would find her passion for him once again. Using the wall to pull herself up, she make it to her feet. Her legs were shaking, but she pushed herself away from the wall to find herself falling into his arms. Throwing her arms around his neck, she held on with all her strength.
He held her, her feet barely touching the cold floor. And then she felt it; the warmth enveloping her like a wool blanket. So caught up in the moment, she barely felt him pick her up in his arms, cradling her close. Still all she could do was hold him tight.
He was walking somewhere. She felt the movement, but her eyes were closed, not wanting to see anything, but wanting her other senses to take over. He stopped. Curiosity took over. She opened her eyes to see a different room. Not the cold grey space she sat in for so long, but there were walls covered in gold. In the middle of the room was a big beautiful bed, covered in crimson satin, with a single white rose on one of the pillows. She looked into his eyes again. This is what he wanted all along. This is what he wanted. Intimacy. And he wanted it with her.
Why did she have to make the next move? She didn't think she would turn away if he came to her. Stubborn, that's what she was. Just plain stubborn. He could have left her presence. He didn't have to stay, but he sat down, giving her some space, reminding her that it was her move. Intimacy? Is that what he wanted?
Did he really want to get closer? Maybe he was content to sit and watch her. Did she really believe that? Was she deaf? Vaguely she remembered his words. No, he wasn't content to sit across the room. He wanted more.
She looked up again. This time it was his eyes that stopped her. Deep blue eyes. She remembered how hard it was in the past to resist his captivating gaze. Still she felt, once again , like a hypocrite. Shame was creeping in and telling her that she was imagining things.
NO! She put her head in her hands. Believing the lies was ludicrous. She knew the truth. If she gathered the strength to get up, running to him wouldn't be a problem. She would find her passion for him once again. Using the wall to pull herself up, she make it to her feet. Her legs were shaking, but she pushed herself away from the wall to find herself falling into his arms. Throwing her arms around his neck, she held on with all her strength.
He held her, her feet barely touching the cold floor. And then she felt it; the warmth enveloping her like a wool blanket. So caught up in the moment, she barely felt him pick her up in his arms, cradling her close. Still all she could do was hold him tight.
He was walking somewhere. She felt the movement, but her eyes were closed, not wanting to see anything, but wanting her other senses to take over. He stopped. Curiosity took over. She opened her eyes to see a different room. Not the cold grey space she sat in for so long, but there were walls covered in gold. In the middle of the room was a big beautiful bed, covered in crimson satin, with a single white rose on one of the pillows. She looked into his eyes again. This is what he wanted all along. This is what he wanted. Intimacy. And he wanted it with her.
posted by Ruby Voigt @ 7:22 PM
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