06-27-2024, 07:16 PM
i showed him all my teeth & then i laughed out loud,
because i never wanted saving, i just wanted to be found
because i never wanted saving, i just wanted to be found
She is not used to being this open, and even though she does not regret it, every second is a fight to not hide herself again.
For so long she had kept him at a distance, ignoring the pull that she had felt in favor of the solitude she had been most familiar with. No matter how badly she wanted him to know every part of her, she had lived with her old habits for too long to simply shake them off without a second thought. They are still there, thorns of insecurity that have burrowed into the far corners of her mind, and each time she feels a flutter of happiness it is as if someone has pushed against them. When her pulse races when he touches her, when her chest warms at his words, it is not without those small pinpricks of fear accompanying them, and she wants nothing more than to be rid of them entirely.
She knows that if she does not learn how to lay her armor down for good that she is going to continue to make things worse. That he will grow tired of fighting against her shields, especially after today, when he has told her all the things that she has longed to hear. She only hopes that he knows that she is trying; that no one is arguing with her insecurities louder than she is, and that she is determined to not make the same mistakes twice.
If they fall apart, it is not going to be at her hand.
He pulls away from her just momentarily and she shifts as if to follow, only for his lips to again find the side of her mouth. Leaning willingly into his touch she exhales a quiet sigh, the guilt threatening to flare to life again at what he says. She swallows it back down, her eyes closing for a moment before she tells him, “and there has been no one else for me since I met you.” She laughs, a quiet, breathy sound, before adding, “or ever. I have only ever been yours.”
She can feel her heartbeat quicken again as his mouth explores the curves of her body, and it feels strange — but also so inexplicably right — to let him do it instead of shifting away teasingly. She has only ever left them wanting; she has never let anyone touch her so thoroughly as she lets him now, has never considered letting anyone go further than she is already hoping he will go. She never thinks of moving away; she leans into him, all that want and desire coiling tighter, seeking out his touch with a backwards step into him and a soft gasp when his teeth sink into her skin. Whatever apprehension she might have felt is drowned out by how fast her heart beats and how loudly her thoughts are consumed only by him, by his touch, by wanting him closer. “Yes,” is the only word she can manage in answer to his question, her body trembling faintly and her heart in her throat.
For so long she had kept him at a distance, ignoring the pull that she had felt in favor of the solitude she had been most familiar with. No matter how badly she wanted him to know every part of her, she had lived with her old habits for too long to simply shake them off without a second thought. They are still there, thorns of insecurity that have burrowed into the far corners of her mind, and each time she feels a flutter of happiness it is as if someone has pushed against them. When her pulse races when he touches her, when her chest warms at his words, it is not without those small pinpricks of fear accompanying them, and she wants nothing more than to be rid of them entirely.
She knows that if she does not learn how to lay her armor down for good that she is going to continue to make things worse. That he will grow tired of fighting against her shields, especially after today, when he has told her all the things that she has longed to hear. She only hopes that he knows that she is trying; that no one is arguing with her insecurities louder than she is, and that she is determined to not make the same mistakes twice.
If they fall apart, it is not going to be at her hand.
He pulls away from her just momentarily and she shifts as if to follow, only for his lips to again find the side of her mouth. Leaning willingly into his touch she exhales a quiet sigh, the guilt threatening to flare to life again at what he says. She swallows it back down, her eyes closing for a moment before she tells him, “and there has been no one else for me since I met you.” She laughs, a quiet, breathy sound, before adding, “or ever. I have only ever been yours.”
She can feel her heartbeat quicken again as his mouth explores the curves of her body, and it feels strange — but also so inexplicably right — to let him do it instead of shifting away teasingly. She has only ever left them wanting; she has never let anyone touch her so thoroughly as she lets him now, has never considered letting anyone go further than she is already hoping he will go. She never thinks of moving away; she leans into him, all that want and desire coiling tighter, seeking out his touch with a backwards step into him and a soft gasp when his teeth sink into her skin. Whatever apprehension she might have felt is drowned out by how fast her heart beats and how loudly her thoughts are consumed only by him, by his touch, by wanting him closer. “Yes,” is the only word she can manage in answer to his question, her body trembling faintly and her heart in her throat.
A D R I A N A
@assailant