M. Shadows' Lips of Deceit

The paper in front of me is nearly filled with words written in cursive. I reread the four paragraphs for a sixth time and a joyful smile plays on my lips. It’s well written and ready to be sent in to the newspaper. The ink pen that sat near my hand was chewed to hell and almost out of ink. I’ve been working at the paper now for almost two months and it was the best job ever. I have this knack, this talent for being able to write about any given subject and give it the emotion it deserved. That’s how much I loved to write and how much I got it, understood it.

The band thing wasn’t my dream, it was theirs. And sooner or later they’ll ask to replace me and I won’t object. The songs will still be theirs if they want them, I’d love to stick around as a songwriter but not as the singer. To be the person that gives those words an audible voice.

“Baby,” Adam calls and shakes me out of my thought with his voice. His voice alone stirs the acids in my stomach. I jump out of my semi-comfy desk chair and jet for the front door.

His arms are the safest place in the world; at the end of a bad day, where I’ve been rejected by the employment world, I can come home to him and be held and all that is washed away and it’s their lose. That’s what I get from him holding me and me holding him. It’s their lost.

“And how is my favorite girl in the world doing?” He presses his lips against the space between my well make-up’ed eyes. A warm coolness they are; warm blood pumping behind those rubies and chilly lip rings attached.

“She is great, how is my favorite boy in the world?”

“Great now that he’s home.”

We only needed each other, no one else, that’s what I love about us and our relationship. It sounds like some stupid fairytale that will have that stupid inevitable happy ending but it’s true. I wouldn’t trade him for anyone in the world. Now maybe I’d trade a night with him for a night with Matt Sanders but that’ll be a secret kept within the walls of my mind.

“Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” He asks as we walk together to the living room; his arms wrapped around my waist keeping me tucked into him.

“Yeah, lets go out for a pizza or some Subway and then come home for a movie-no, a Buffy marathon!” I scream turning around in his arms animatedly. His laughing fills my little pierced ears and I can’t help but grin.

“But there are so many seasons to choose from!” He emphasizes so as he whines out.

“Season five! I haven’t seen the Dracula Vs Buffy episode in forever!” I scream jumping around on my heels.

“Okay, ok, season five it is. Let’s go get ready then so we can go and I can show off the best looking desert out there.” A little flush of heat budded in my face, three years and I still blush with the things that come out of his mouth. I playfully slap his arm before threading my fingers through his and leading him to our bedroom.

We live in a cozy little one story flat and share all of the responsibilities; paying the bills, cooking and cleaning, all that good stuff. I never thought in a million years that I’d have this kind of imperfect-perfect life. There are bumps in the road but I like the bumps, I feed off them. I thrive off of the raw emotion, that big mistake that you learn from and are better for afterwards. I love it and I love my life because of it.

“Hey are you in there?” His knuckles tap against my forehead lightly as I had gotten lost in thought. A little giggle passes through my pierced thin lips and I put up a random fist. A perky smile etching across my face as I stand there in that pose and Adam nearly cascades over dying with a case of hysterics.

“Yes! I am in here! And I’m in here! And here! And here!” I scream! Pointing to my stomach, chest and placing my hands sloppily on my shoulders. That perky smile grows large enough to where you can see my wisdom teeth.

“You are too much, I don’t know where I muster up all the love I have for you.” His voice is uneven when he talks because he’s catching his breath; I apparently just took his breath away. I slam my body against his and together we collide with the made bed. I love everything about this guy, every little feature and indent.

“Pink leather pants! She must have killed some prostituting cheerleader! And I bet those aren’t even real leather! Least not for the character, they probably imagine them pleather I’m sure on set they’re real leather.” I was about to go into another miniature rant when his lips stopped me from talking. I felt him smile his winning smile against my lips a second later.

We were sitting next to one another on the little loveseat ten feet from the nice sized television. My palm pressed against the nape of his neck as I demanded more from his lips. My tongue streamed along the outside of his lips imploring for entrance. Adam rested his hand on the small of my back; which was half clothed due to my shirt rising up. The touch of his hand against my back enthralled me and my body wanted more.

My free hand deeply grabbed on his shoulder and I pressed my weight on it as I got onto his lap. I fit perfectly there; I was the missing piece to his body. His lips broke enough were I could slip my tongue through. I caress his tongue with my own in slow motions that move from side to side. His hands are laying on hips, grabbing and retracting to a standstill.

I grinded against his lap and a small muffled groan escaped his mouth. His hands traveled up my sides, resting on my ribs and he pushed me back.

“Come on…” I mumble against his jaw, nuzzling his jaw with my cheek.

“No,”

I grunt and look him dead on in the eyes. I hated this part, I rev his engine and he revs mine but the car never gets out of the parking spot. I love the thought that he wants to wait till we’re married and until then we just foreplay but it’s been a long three years and I just want him.

“What’s the real difference in our oral and intercourse? It’s not like you’re a virgin or I am-“

“It’s what I want.” His voice is soaking with irritation and he nudges me back towards my seat besides him.

“I love you.” I have my arms crossed over my chest and a pout is smeared across my lips. His breath is still in mine and his saliva is drying in the air of the room. I concentrate on the fight between Buffy and Dracula and don’t answer him back. A few minutes later he lets out a sigh and leaves my side, getting up and going to what sounded as our bedroom.