Like Ghosts In The Snow

I'd say you're hot, I really would. But that would only make me feel like I'm insulting you, since 'hot' is one giant understatement if it's you who I want to describe. You can be hot, though, but not like other people, though. Actually, you’ve experienced me so much you’ve been literally hot, flaming, too – insert manic laughter here – but I don’t think that really matters now, does it? You remind me of a lily, really. Just so… fragile.

Your skin, it’s so pale. Pale as snow, you know? No, almost, yes, almost as pale as snow. It’s much prettier than snow; snow is plain white – while your skin is transparent white, with little greens, blues, reds and purples peeking from under it. It’s like you’re a vampire. Even though, I wouldn’t be very pleased with you being a vampire, really. That means you’d have to suck my blood. And I’m much more comfortable when it’s the other way around.

You know, I’m not sure what the thing that makes you special is. Maybe it’s your pout; maybe it’s your weaknesses or simply that pair of sunshine hazel eyes that’s etched into your beautiful face. No, I know. It’s that one thing, that one thing that makes you so different from anyone I’ve ever met. It was always easy, you know. They'd come, we'd kiss, we'd fuck, they'd go. It was always so plain. Because they didn’t know me. There wasn’t anything inside them, that made me want to kill them. Yes, I want to kill you. Simply because you know me.

You know what I mean when I say that you’re mine. It’s not your body that I crave most, you know? I’ve never craved anyone so much before. I craved a lot of people, but not their souls, no, never their souls. I’d never been interested in anything but their ass, you know? Never.But I want all of you. I want you mind, I want your heart, I want your soul. Every second of my life. Do you understand how uncomfortable that makes me feel? It makes me feel really uncomfortable, honest to god. But yes, I can go with it; hardly, but I can. You understand one thing, though, don’t you? If you don’t give me your heart – I’ll be prepared to rip it out of your chest, and keep it in a jar; and I’m not using metaphors here. I’m sure you do, though. You must. Because you know me.

“Frank?” I hear your voice somewhere, but I can’t comprehend it. It’s there, but it’s not, just like… like you're behind me, but a bit further, you know? Because I can still hear the rain falling in front of me, because I’m standing by the window. It’s just like-

“Come back to bed,” you sound grumpy. A little like your throat is sore. Oh, wait. You're in bed, yes, your words have just reached my brain. You were sleeping. Now I’m mad at myself. Because I didn’t watch you. I was too busy staring into the rain and thinking about you. Truth to be told, the you I have in my mind is nothing compared to the real thing. I manage to turn around, then to catch a glimpse of you.

You’re lying in my bed, the sheets barely reaching your hips – their whiteness much purer than yours, but still less beautiful than you. The only faults on your skin are the marks I left; even though that fits you much better than the perfection; and the marks the sheets left. Your hair looks so messy, but it's still glowing somehow. I don't know. You know, your hair is the thing that drew me into you first. I don’t know why, there’s nothing that special to your hair, not compared to the rest of you. I just really liked the way the lousy street lighting illuminated the long locks that were barely touching your shoulders back then. Now they’re longer, just because I talked you out of cutting them.

“I’m not sleepy,” I admit, realizing your furrowed brow requests an answer. You crack a small smile, enough to make my chest throb. You realize what you’re doing to me, right? You and that smile of yours.

“I’ve passed the point of caring, Frank,” you state, still staring into my eyes. I don’t understand why you have such a huge power over me. I really don’t. I try to fight it, I always do, I always try to fight the order you give me. Even though I’m usually the one giving orders. But I can’t seem to disrespect yours, either. It’s making me uneasy.

I move reluctantly, but still reach the bed. I somehow feel like it was worth it, since the first thing I’m greeted with afterwards is one smile from you. Yes, I’m not sure why I’m so dazed with your smile.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” you say just before I pull the covers to over my stomach, just now aware I’ve been naked the whole time. I don’t care, it's just an observation. You're naked too, so it doesn’t really make any difference. We both know you’ve seen it all oh-so-well too many times before.

I nod in agreement as I try to make myself comfortable, my back facing you. It isn’t like I want to tell you something with that. Well, actually, when I think about it, it maybe is.

“Frank?” your voice sounds again after a few moments, before you let out a silent sigh.

"Yes?” I say quietly. You shift your position; I can tell because the sheets muffle a lot, they always do, and suddenly I feel your fingers running over my spine, immediately sending shivers over my skin.

“Turn around,” you simply say, nothing but a bare whisper. I find myself complying your request even though it isn’t something I want to do. I then face you, the muffling of the sheets annoying me again. I really hate those sheets, they’re too noisy. They make your breathing hard for me to hear.

“Happy now?” I say; irritation visible in my voice when I see you smile. Then I’m no longer irritated because I complied your wish, but because your smile made me forget why I was annoyed two seconds ago. And that made me uncomfortable.

“Yes.” Now your teeth are poking out from in between your lips, those shiny white, small teeth which make you look so young when you smile, even though you’re older than me.I say nothing more but you do, not with your voice but with your actions, when you move closer to me so I can feel your warm breath on my face. It smells nice; it smells like mint, even though I don’t recall when you had mint in the past few hours you spent with me. You suddenly look at me with some weird significance, so it feels like your eyes are sending daggers to pierce all over my skin, leaving tiny scars which look like shivers. Then you move your hand closer to my face, your fingers gently brushing my cheeks, enough to make me crack a smile. I rarely smile, you know that. You must catch what I’m thinking about, because you move an inch closer and seal our lips together.

It doesn’t feel really heated, it’s simple, but I still feel that familiar pounding in my heart. Then you move away, my lips suddenly feeling abandoned and lonely. Again, you read my mind – I really have no idea how you do that, but you kiss me again. It’s short, even shorter than last time, but it feels much more meaningful. It makes me smile again.

Then you produce a whisper, just barely audible, but I can still hear it. “I love you.” You’re still looking deep into my eyes, and again, my heart feels like it’s in flames. You lit the fire there.

“I love you, too,” I tell you a few moments later.

“I know,” you move your head to my chest, resting it there, just above the place my heart should be. Sometimes, I’m not sure it’s actually there, because I’m the kind of person I am, but then it starts frantically beating when I’m with you. And then I’m sure it exists, but I’m never going to be sure it’s not pitch black – no matter how hard you try to persuade me.

You place your hand on my heart, though, and I close my eyes. You start whispering again. You know, sometimes I have to thank god I have good hearing, because you love to whisper. It’s probably one of those artistic wits of yours.

“I told you it’s there,” you say.

I chuckle, you sometimes sound so innocent. “That means nothing.”

“It does,” you remain persistent.“How?”

“It means everything, because it beats for me,” you say. The thing I would like to do the most at this moment is tell you off with something, but I’m not able to. You have me.

“Can’t argue with that,” I say and then feel you laugh. It’s just a huff over my heart, of your warm breath over my skin.

“I just hope you never will.”

Notes

I hope it doesn't suck too much. Rogue is a bitch, but she's my bitch[and my beta] so it doesn't matter. You can always comment and shit, even if you just want to inform me of how much I suck, but no pressure.
Geesgirl!, thanks for the idea. x

- Milo