Beta:
Lisa
Summary: I pressed my head against the steering wheel at the next red light that I came to and sobbed.
Disclaimer: Not Real
it’s raining outside of my house and I can’t help giving up good inspiration
He was standing sultry in the rain, what a sight; soaking wet hair and lowered eyes, fists crushed at either side of him in complete and utter annoyance. I had been watching him for a while now, this boy, this man, who left his building every day tired and sore from work to catch the bus to catch the train to get back home to his house. It was a rather long commute everyday, so I suppose I would be quite agitated as well, but today it seemed different, so different. Maybe it was because he had no umbrella, and he wasn’t trying to woo anyone over when he flicked his fringe out of the way, or when he started to unbutton his coat and took it off to reveal a shirt taunt against his skin, almost see through, and held it above his head. But he did.
He wooed me.
I averted my eyes back to the green light that was in front of me, the steady long lines of cars behind me honking their horns violently; mass media and their mechanical tools of destruction -- actually, annoyance--, one of God’s many gifs to corporate propaganda factions across the world. I pressed the gas slowly, looking in the back seat at the umbrella that I clearly didn’t need it and back at him. The cars honked again, engines revving, angry fists flailing; startling noises that jolted him right from his rain induced stupor and guided him right to my eyes.
I faltered, he opened his mouth as if he knew something, could say something, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t allow himself to. And, well even if he did I didn’t hear it or say it. I had already slammed the gas petal and crossed two red lights.
---------------
On Tuesday it was raining as well, but he didn’t look so sad today, in fact, he looked utterly elated. He had his jacket slung around his shoulders carelessly, eyes wide and bright, smile as long as a million miles; there was a halo hovering over his head, golden brass hues dancing with blue lights and a dazzling unsullied complex that I had never saw someone wear so perfectly before.
I sat inside my car, sipping coffee quietly, playing with the strands on Bob’s hair. He fell asleep today, his head buried into my lap, snoring softly and calmly. I averted my eyes from him and back to Bob, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept peacefully. Bob was an angel too, I suppose, he taught me how to love, how to accept myself, how to understand the complexities of that great universe that we all explode into in our final breaths. I owed him everything. I felt like I was cheating on him. "Tea…" I whispered, leaning over and nosing his hair lightly from his eyes.
He stirred and groaned, raising a heavy palm to slap my face but missed it entirely, sleep clouding his accuracy. I murmured it again, now skimming my lips over the bridge of his nose, teasingly but gently. Bob may look like brute sometimes, but he crumbles like a rose beneath the sweltering summer sun. "Tea…" I purred his nickname now, frowning when he didn’t get up.
Stubborn boy, I huffed out, reaching over in my seat and peeled up his shirt, smiling softly. I pressed my lips to his stomach and blew softly, making him giggle and wake up finally, fully, swatting me away.
"Stoppit, Alex." He said, wiping the tears from his eyes. I ran my tongue over his navel, kissing and biting around the soft skin until he started bawling inside of the car now, grasping the chair and everything else in his path for leverage; Bob was deathly ticklish, and it didn’t take much to send him into a fit. "A-A-Alex…: He gasped, and I pulled away, settling back into my seat slightly.
I winked at him, "That’s what you get for not waking up." I turned my head lazily back to the window and the boy, that man, who looked so beautiful and happy a few minutes ago now looked lost and sad, slumped against the wall. The rain drowned him out, but, as I would and always know, could spot the genuine tracks of tears running down his face from a mile away. "I wonder…" I whisper, and Bob’s already asleep again, cheeks pressed flat across the window, an adorable rose hue splashed over his face." Who taught him how to love?"
-----------------------------
I didn’t see him Wednesday or Thursday, so I simply got my coffee and left.
The city streets and cars and lights and sounds burned into one laud mixture of lightening,; sporadic strikes of rain and lonely howls of the wind. I pressed my head against the steering wheel at the next red light that I came to and sobbed.
------------------
On Friday he sat in the middle of the sidewalk inside of the rain, reading a book. I quirked an eyebrow, steadily trying to balance my coffee through the mass crowds of people, and stumbled, losing my grip on the cup. As the plastic object sailed through the air I had an extremely stupid notion of jumping out and trying to catch it, but before I could -- and I would fail while doing so-- , it landed right besides him.
We both stopped breathing.
I scrambled over to him, trying to dry him off but he only began to laugh. I felt insulted at first, giving him somewhat of a glare but then I realized the funniness of the situation at hand. I was trying to dry him off…in the rain. Brilliant. I slapped a forehead to my head, a fierce blush sparkling across my cheeks.
I squat down besides him, dropping the cup again and inquired the book he was reading. "The Master And Margarita? Brilliant book there, yeah?"
"Ja," He smiled and I died; those eyes….those deep azure eyes showed me the future, I swear it, every thought, impure or otherwise, bouncing back right against me. I wonder, could I reach out and cradle his face so I could capture some of that perfect as my own? Am I that selfish? "I read it 7 times already."
"Wow," I whispered, "I only read it 4."
He smiled, he had a lovely smile. "Then maybe it’s not as good as you thought it was. I love the part when they kiss…." He had stars in his eyes. He looked up, and I brushed a strand of hair from his face. Fire. Fire. I burned for him, it was a sudden ache that ripped my stomach wide open and tore at my heart. Could he tell, I’m sure he could. He wrinkled his nose as I leaned in, almost in a trance, and turned his head to the side so that my lips met his cheek instead of my initial target. I was rejected.
I frowned, "M’sorry…" I whispered, getting up quickly. He grasped my wrist half way up and pointed at someone looking at us through a car door window. I breathed out slowly, and turned away, ashamed.
Bob.
"I’ll see you tomorrow, Alex." He said quietly, and I blinked, shocked that he knew my name. The bus rolled up and he smiled, getting off the ground and shook his hair wildly like a wet dog again. He did that on purpose, that smirk that flushed its way around his cheeks and mouth was enough to send me back to the floor again, though, wild with some passion I could never understand. "You should go back to Bob, he’s worried about you."
He got on the bus and the doors closed.
But Bob’s eyes were still glued on mines.
Summary: I pressed my head against the steering wheel at the next red light that I came to and sobbed.
Disclaimer: Not Real
it’s raining outside of my house and I can’t help giving up good inspiration
He was standing sultry in the rain, what a sight; soaking wet hair and lowered eyes, fists crushed at either side of him in complete and utter annoyance. I had been watching him for a while now, this boy, this man, who left his building every day tired and sore from work to catch the bus to catch the train to get back home to his house. It was a rather long commute everyday, so I suppose I would be quite agitated as well, but today it seemed different, so different. Maybe it was because he had no umbrella, and he wasn’t trying to woo anyone over when he flicked his fringe out of the way, or when he started to unbutton his coat and took it off to reveal a shirt taunt against his skin, almost see through, and held it above his head. But he did.
He wooed me.
I averted my eyes back to the green light that was in front of me, the steady long lines of cars behind me honking their horns violently; mass media and their mechanical tools of destruction -- actually, annoyance--, one of God’s many gifs to corporate propaganda factions across the world. I pressed the gas slowly, looking in the back seat at the umbrella that I clearly didn’t need it and back at him. The cars honked again, engines revving, angry fists flailing; startling noises that jolted him right from his rain induced stupor and guided him right to my eyes.
I faltered, he opened his mouth as if he knew something, could say something, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t allow himself to. And, well even if he did I didn’t hear it or say it. I had already slammed the gas petal and crossed two red lights.
---------------
On Tuesday it was raining as well, but he didn’t look so sad today, in fact, he looked utterly elated. He had his jacket slung around his shoulders carelessly, eyes wide and bright, smile as long as a million miles; there was a halo hovering over his head, golden brass hues dancing with blue lights and a dazzling unsullied complex that I had never saw someone wear so perfectly before.
I sat inside my car, sipping coffee quietly, playing with the strands on Bob’s hair. He fell asleep today, his head buried into my lap, snoring softly and calmly. I averted my eyes from him and back to Bob, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept peacefully. Bob was an angel too, I suppose, he taught me how to love, how to accept myself, how to understand the complexities of that great universe that we all explode into in our final breaths. I owed him everything. I felt like I was cheating on him. "Tea…" I whispered, leaning over and nosing his hair lightly from his eyes.
He stirred and groaned, raising a heavy palm to slap my face but missed it entirely, sleep clouding his accuracy. I murmured it again, now skimming my lips over the bridge of his nose, teasingly but gently. Bob may look like brute sometimes, but he crumbles like a rose beneath the sweltering summer sun. "Tea…" I purred his nickname now, frowning when he didn’t get up.
Stubborn boy, I huffed out, reaching over in my seat and peeled up his shirt, smiling softly. I pressed my lips to his stomach and blew softly, making him giggle and wake up finally, fully, swatting me away.
"Stoppit, Alex." He said, wiping the tears from his eyes. I ran my tongue over his navel, kissing and biting around the soft skin until he started bawling inside of the car now, grasping the chair and everything else in his path for leverage; Bob was deathly ticklish, and it didn’t take much to send him into a fit. "A-A-Alex…: He gasped, and I pulled away, settling back into my seat slightly.
I winked at him, "That’s what you get for not waking up." I turned my head lazily back to the window and the boy, that man, who looked so beautiful and happy a few minutes ago now looked lost and sad, slumped against the wall. The rain drowned him out, but, as I would and always know, could spot the genuine tracks of tears running down his face from a mile away. "I wonder…" I whisper, and Bob’s already asleep again, cheeks pressed flat across the window, an adorable rose hue splashed over his face." Who taught him how to love?"
-----------------------------
I didn’t see him Wednesday or Thursday, so I simply got my coffee and left.
The city streets and cars and lights and sounds burned into one laud mixture of lightening,; sporadic strikes of rain and lonely howls of the wind. I pressed my head against the steering wheel at the next red light that I came to and sobbed.
------------------
On Friday he sat in the middle of the sidewalk inside of the rain, reading a book. I quirked an eyebrow, steadily trying to balance my coffee through the mass crowds of people, and stumbled, losing my grip on the cup. As the plastic object sailed through the air I had an extremely stupid notion of jumping out and trying to catch it, but before I could -- and I would fail while doing so-- , it landed right besides him.
We both stopped breathing.
I scrambled over to him, trying to dry him off but he only began to laugh. I felt insulted at first, giving him somewhat of a glare but then I realized the funniness of the situation at hand. I was trying to dry him off…in the rain. Brilliant. I slapped a forehead to my head, a fierce blush sparkling across my cheeks.
I squat down besides him, dropping the cup again and inquired the book he was reading. "The Master And Margarita? Brilliant book there, yeah?"
"Ja," He smiled and I died; those eyes….those deep azure eyes showed me the future, I swear it, every thought, impure or otherwise, bouncing back right against me. I wonder, could I reach out and cradle his face so I could capture some of that perfect as my own? Am I that selfish? "I read it 7 times already."
"Wow," I whispered, "I only read it 4."
He smiled, he had a lovely smile. "Then maybe it’s not as good as you thought it was. I love the part when they kiss…." He had stars in his eyes. He looked up, and I brushed a strand of hair from his face. Fire. Fire. I burned for him, it was a sudden ache that ripped my stomach wide open and tore at my heart. Could he tell, I’m sure he could. He wrinkled his nose as I leaned in, almost in a trance, and turned his head to the side so that my lips met his cheek instead of my initial target. I was rejected.
I frowned, "M’sorry…" I whispered, getting up quickly. He grasped my wrist half way up and pointed at someone looking at us through a car door window. I breathed out slowly, and turned away, ashamed.
Bob.
"I’ll see you tomorrow, Alex." He said quietly, and I blinked, shocked that he knew my name. The bus rolled up and he smiled, getting off the ground and shook his hair wildly like a wet dog again. He did that on purpose, that smirk that flushed its way around his cheeks and mouth was enough to send me back to the floor again, though, wild with some passion I could never understand. "You should go back to Bob, he’s worried about you."
He got on the bus and the doors closed.
But Bob’s eyes were still glued on mines.
