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Interlude: Resolve
Feb. 21st, 2005 11:44 pmWe are curled in bed, arms wrapped around and under, legs curling protectively like snailshells around each other. The bed is warm, so warm, and with my cheek pressed against his chest and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat, I could fall asleep and dream there forever.
But his eyes, the beautiful green eyes, are troubled and he is asking me the unpleasant question I thought I had already answered for him. He pauses expectantly, and I gather breath and courage to give him the painful truth. His eyes are like those of a man who sees his every desire burning to ash before him, and I want to close mine, to kiss him and hold him close, to take back the truth and wipe the pain from those gorgeous eyes so filled with sadness.
I do not. I will not lie to him, much as it hurts.
"Hey." His eyes are on me again, bright and hoping. "I can't make you any promises. I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to make you a rebound. If you don't want..." His fingers on my lips, his voice shakily telling me that he can do this, but we had better take it slow. I am staring at him, wishing him to understand. Every time I try to explain it's like kicking a puppy, and part of me wants to press my cheek to his heart and promise to be his forever and ever. Somewhere in the back of my mind though, is a part that revels in his pain and disquiet, and with a shock I realize that the idea of him bound and crying in my bed for me is suddenly very, very satisfying in a way I know he wouldn't understand. My self control is iron, and rather than say anything, I sigh against him and stroke his hair.
I can do this. I can. The question is, will he?
But his eyes, the beautiful green eyes, are troubled and he is asking me the unpleasant question I thought I had already answered for him. He pauses expectantly, and I gather breath and courage to give him the painful truth. His eyes are like those of a man who sees his every desire burning to ash before him, and I want to close mine, to kiss him and hold him close, to take back the truth and wipe the pain from those gorgeous eyes so filled with sadness.
I do not. I will not lie to him, much as it hurts.
"Hey." His eyes are on me again, bright and hoping. "I can't make you any promises. I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to make you a rebound. If you don't want..." His fingers on my lips, his voice shakily telling me that he can do this, but we had better take it slow. I am staring at him, wishing him to understand. Every time I try to explain it's like kicking a puppy, and part of me wants to press my cheek to his heart and promise to be his forever and ever. Somewhere in the back of my mind though, is a part that revels in his pain and disquiet, and with a shock I realize that the idea of him bound and crying in my bed for me is suddenly very, very satisfying in a way I know he wouldn't understand. My self control is iron, and rather than say anything, I sigh against him and stroke his hair.
I can do this. I can. The question is, will he?
