Sequel: Devotion ›
Taion
Body Temperature
“You’re leaving?” He asks groggily, watching me as I pull on yesterday’s shirt, the smell of his aftershave clinging rebelliously to the fabric. He doesn’t attempt to hide the disappointment in his voice as I sigh softly, almost wistfully.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” I turn to him, my expression apologetic. It was true. I didn’t want to wake him up from his peaceful slumber, bring him back to the real world of lies and deceit. It had been a late night, an exhilarating night admittedly, but still tiring. And he looked like an angel when he slept.
His sleepy eyes glare at me from over the top of the crumpled linen sheets, his multicoloured tresses stick out in random directions, a rainbow exploding against the soft white hotel pillows. I smile gently down at him but his sulky expression remains. I imagine his pale pink lips pouting beneath the covers and my own lips stretch into a wider smile. I’ve always loved his childlike personality, his bubbly, colourful soul contrasted against the grey, bleak life I found myself trapped in.
I lie back down, facing him, weaving a strand of pink hair through my fingers. He watches my face; his eyes bore into me, probing and intense. I find myself looking away, staring at the orchids on the windowsill.
“Who do you love, Daisuke?” He whispers coarsely, as if he were afraid to hear the answer. My brown eyes focus on him again, the whole of his youthful face now visible, the sheer beauty leaving me breathless. “I refuse to be your plaything. Your object. Your tool to get back at her. It hurts… seeing you once a week. I don’t want to be nothing anymore, Daisuke.” His expression becomes pained and he closes his eyes to hide from me.
I stroke his cheek tenderly, feeling his smooth skin flush beneath my touch, my fingers rising and falling over the delicate contours of his face. His eyes remain closed, his face slightly more relaxed. I shift my body so I’m above him, my hand travelling further down his bare skin, stopping at his chest. My eyes drink in the beauty of his naked form, drifting over the black letters that cover his collarbone, my dark hair falling in front of my face. I lower my lips to his, the warmth of his body welcoming beneath mine. I’d give anything to spend another hour with him. Waste the day in his arms.
But dawn is here, sunlight bursting through the curtains. She’ll be waking up anytime now. And I’ll say I was away for business like every other Friday night since the start of the year.
I sigh against the pink skin of his mouth, the warmth of his steady breaths inviting me to stay longer. But I can’t.
“You’re my everything, Miyavi. You always will be,” I kiss him affectionately one last time, before leaving silently, my heart lies sleeping with him.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” I turn to him, my expression apologetic. It was true. I didn’t want to wake him up from his peaceful slumber, bring him back to the real world of lies and deceit. It had been a late night, an exhilarating night admittedly, but still tiring. And he looked like an angel when he slept.
His sleepy eyes glare at me from over the top of the crumpled linen sheets, his multicoloured tresses stick out in random directions, a rainbow exploding against the soft white hotel pillows. I smile gently down at him but his sulky expression remains. I imagine his pale pink lips pouting beneath the covers and my own lips stretch into a wider smile. I’ve always loved his childlike personality, his bubbly, colourful soul contrasted against the grey, bleak life I found myself trapped in.
I lie back down, facing him, weaving a strand of pink hair through my fingers. He watches my face; his eyes bore into me, probing and intense. I find myself looking away, staring at the orchids on the windowsill.
“Who do you love, Daisuke?” He whispers coarsely, as if he were afraid to hear the answer. My brown eyes focus on him again, the whole of his youthful face now visible, the sheer beauty leaving me breathless. “I refuse to be your plaything. Your object. Your tool to get back at her. It hurts… seeing you once a week. I don’t want to be nothing anymore, Daisuke.” His expression becomes pained and he closes his eyes to hide from me.
I stroke his cheek tenderly, feeling his smooth skin flush beneath my touch, my fingers rising and falling over the delicate contours of his face. His eyes remain closed, his face slightly more relaxed. I shift my body so I’m above him, my hand travelling further down his bare skin, stopping at his chest. My eyes drink in the beauty of his naked form, drifting over the black letters that cover his collarbone, my dark hair falling in front of my face. I lower my lips to his, the warmth of his body welcoming beneath mine. I’d give anything to spend another hour with him. Waste the day in his arms.
But dawn is here, sunlight bursting through the curtains. She’ll be waking up anytime now. And I’ll say I was away for business like every other Friday night since the start of the year.
I sigh against the pink skin of his mouth, the warmth of his steady breaths inviting me to stay longer. But I can’t.
“You’re my everything, Miyavi. You always will be,” I kiss him affectionately one last time, before leaving silently, my heart lies sleeping with him.