I fear I might've stumbled across a writer's block cause I've lost my mojo guys. I'm sad.
Anyways,I was listening to Frank Ocean and decided to write something:
"I want to touch you", His voice was a mix of exhaustion and want. It was rugged and husky, laced with the desperation of a man on the brink. It didn't matter if they weren't the only one on the train. It didn't matter if they were in a stadium,a restaurant or a fucking church. He craved her...wanted her. He craved every part of her. Nothing else mattered. He was blinded by it all and feared a spell...some sort of charm had been used on him. Never in his life had he felt so obsessed with something...someone.
She looked up at him, her eyes locked on his, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. The tension between them was palpable, like a living thing that pulsed with its own rhythm. He took a step closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers. "I want to touch you," he repeated, his voice low and rough.
She didn't move, didn't speak. She just kept looking at him, her eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and desire. He took another step closer, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the heat emanating from her body, could smell the sweet scent of her skin.
She still didn't move, but he could see the tension in her body, the way her muscles were coiled and ready to spring.He reached out a hand, his fingers brushing against her cheek. She flinched, but didn't pull away.
"I want to touch you Eliora..." he whispered again, his lips inches from her ear. "...please"
She shuddered, her body trembling with desire. He could feel it, could sense the way she was torn between wanting him and fearing him.He trailed his fingers down her neck, his touch sending shivers down her spine. She gasped, her eyes flashing with desire.
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers. She didn't kiss him back, but she didn't pull away either. They stood there, frozen in time, the only sound the heavy breathing between them. The tension was building, growing thicker and more oppressive by the second.
It didn't matter if he had travel to the other end of the world to see her,to feel her,to touch her. Only her mattered. Only her.
Thanks for reading...
