Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Perfection ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Perfection by Camaro



Chapter 2
Hot and Cold









I never thought I could hate.

And I never thought that the lines between love and hate could mesh into one thing that enjoys tearing a person down the middle. I used to pride myself on kindness and compassion and doing what was right. But time, as they say, can change things. And one day, I stood across from a monster.. and then I fell in love with him.

He was my outlet. He was my everything incarnate that I hated about myself. His rage boiled over and it felt like mine. His blood thirst was insatiable yet I could understand his lust for it. He was the rebel I would be if I didn't learn from his mistakes and shortcomings as a result of it. In short, I lived my Saiyan life vicariously through him. He became everything I loathed, yet I spared him. I needed him. Or so I thought.

He was beautiful. I guess there are better words to use but I don't intend to. Beauty was something that could sum him up though never quite do him justice. For all the ugliness that spawned inside Vegeta, his outward appearance could leave one staring in awe at their own demise. If he had been the last thing I ever saw, it was a good death indeed. I would have stood before a final blast and smiled if only I could catch a last glimpse of his infuriated eyes, baring down into me. He could strip away the clothing and flesh and muscle and tissue and leave me bare with but one glance.

And what's the worst part? He knew it.

He was a prince of beauty. His footsteps alone left traces to be worshipped behind him and I would cower after he'd gone, nursing my wounds and smelling his sweat over my heated skin. He would beat me and I would beat him, our secret song and dance that only slightly resembled the real war we constantly fought within ourselves when amongst each other. He could release some caged creation within me and then just as quickly, let the door close before it consumed my being. I became just like him at moments, furious and unable to see consequences for rage. And then, as if sensing my close descent from sanity, he would push my hold upon its threads, caging the demon and staring in victory over me.

Like he'd won a great war. One he'd fought and succeeded in every day.

As if he could taunt me, tease me and unleash the realization that he could truly make me into whatever he wanted. He made a monster out of a good man. And I think I still hate him for it.

I never accepted that I loved him. I think that was a part of me that I let lay dormant until it essentially became me. It had been there since the day of our meeting and continued to grow into what I liken to an egg-sack, filled to the brim with venomous spiders. And the day he kissed me? The spiders hatched.

I had stood against him, knuckles cracking as I clenched my fist, eyes baring back into his daringly. 'Do it,' I had thought. 'Hit me. Hurt me. Hate me.' And he had. Every fist against my face was a torrent of fiery ashes across my skin, breaking until blood busted across his lips, stretched into a dangerous smile. Red glimmered over his teeth, eyes alight with the volcanic hatred he poured over my body. And what sickened me most?

I liked it.

Ahhh but I let my head fall back in bliss as he covered me with his hatred, letting every wound speak the volumes he never bothered to voice.

Does that make me masochistic? That I craved his violence? That I relished every bruise he left over my pale skin? That I licked the places where his blood stained me?

Call me what you will. But don't judge me. I loved him. And I was blinded by that.

I would stare with disgust at my wife, at her irritating little quirks that I'd never even noticed, making me cringe at her touch. The facial expressions I'd once admired made me recoil in distaste, my body unwilling to give her what she wanted. She never could understand that. She never could accept that I couldn't force myself to indulge in the normalcies of human marriage. I was selfish, I see that now. Hell, I saw it then. But my own instinctual inclinations were pulled repeatedly away from her and I found myself barely stomaching the moments we spent together.
How could I have had sons with her? I would sometimes wonder, loathing my cruel detachment from her. I knew it wasn't fair. Yet I blamed him for it. He had awakened the Saiyan in me, the socially inept creature that craved only blood and victory---and him. Yet, in all my descriptions, I've given you a false idea of him. Yes, he's beautiful. Yes, he's cold. But please try to understand, I loved him for greater reasons than that.

He made me free. He made me realize that there had been bars when I'd never even expected it before. He showed me the world as no one could have seen it and he awakened every portion of my body that felt like it had never breathed. He was my God for a time. He breathed breath into my lungs and created me into something new and different. And for a while, that sufficed.

He would gaze in adoration for his creation, a perfect, frozen, warrior, intent to kill and purge just as I had been born to do. And then he would subtly remind me of what the cost of freedom was. And that's when I'd hear the doors of my cage slam once more, and the awakening would seem more of a curse than a blessing.

Like for two seconds, I was the abandoned dog, let out of the cage; and then just as quickly, pushed back in to suffer yet another year of confinement.

And then our affair began. I think it's easier for me to never mention our wives. It is. Because then I have to recall that in the endeavor for my freedom, I cost the love of many people. It's easier to always see him as the antagonist of the story; the essential bad guy. But as I see it now, we both hurt many people in our indulgence of selfishness.

He had stood in my kitchen, hips swaying slightly as he perched himself against the counter, elbows locked over it. A devilish grin spread over that immaculate face I could probably still paint for you, eyes alight with mischief as they always were.

"Good day Kakarot?" He'd whispered, his special name for me rolling off his tongue. His daily reminder that I was more than this. More than a petty husband and a weak human: A warrior by a nature I'd never known about.

"I've had better," I'd simply replied, always offset at his flirtateous, anxious behavior. I guess I'd preferred his fury, his unleashed animosity towards the warrior he knew was stronger in some ways than himself. His calm, calculating stare always unnerving me within my own skin.

The day in itself hadn't been exactly horrible, that's true. A beautiful spring had introduced itself to the former season, the grass and trees seeming to give a great sigh at the welcome change. In fact, it seemed as though the earth itself was awakening, gazing up at the fresh sunshine and shaking away the dripping icecycles that still clung to its branches. I had stared at the sky for what might have been an hour, breathing in cool air and closing my eyes when a warm breeze would wrap its way around my goose bumped arms.

Gohan, eight years old at the time, stood next to me, chattering on about things that, in his world, were the greatest contemplation of life yet seemed rather eccentric to me. Ideas of who he would be, his future job as an astronaut or fireman or all these terrific ideas that would probably never come true. It made me question whether I had ever explored the things that went through his mind or if, as I suspected, my concept of life in general would always pale in comparison to his own. His normalcy would forever isolate me as his father yet I had smiled down into his trustworthy eyes and knew that in that, I would find him fascinating.

So young yet still so far beyond what I had ever been at his age.

It was ChiChi's voice that grated into the calm contemplation of my thoughts, her stony figure standing behind us. An ever present look of disappointment and irritation was plastered over her plain features, her arms crossed as she took a breath.

"Staring off into space," She scolded, eyes rolled. "I should have expected as much. It'd be too much to ask for a husband that ONCE in a while actually does anything productive."

I was tempted to spit out a sarcastic "yes, because saving the world is such a tedious waste of time", but held my tongue as usual and smiled stupidly at her. She continued on, listing off the so-called "productive" things she'd already conquered that day, making all attempts to protect the universe seem as though child's play in comparison to dishes and laundry and God knows what else the woman did.

But I'm being unfair. I guess it's easier to look back and say she was a selfish, cold person. It is. She's my scapegoat, my personified justification for adultery. I don't write about all the good things she did, the calm moments when we would sit in our thoughtful silences and dwell over our life together. I don't write about how warm she was next to me in our bed, or the wild, sexual escapades we'd shared earlier on in our marriage.

She'd been the first person I'd ever had sex with. And while some people may say it's a shallow, pointless fact to bring up, I don't imagine I'd ever really been that close to ANYONE afterwards. She'd been my teacher in so many things. She showed me things about my body I'd never even considered before and she was, (again, I'm trying to refrain from male egoism) a constant "giver" in the bedroom. It was as though, sometimes, as much as she put of herself into house cleaning and up keep, she was just as enthused
in the sex department. She wanted to please me in ways I never knew someone COULD be so satisfied in.

So early on in our marriage, I would sit back and even wonder within myself WHY she had wanted so badly to marry me. With all of her generosity, I always felt like her expectations from me were quite limited. I was to be her husband, the father of her child and the hunter. And that was all she really expected at the time. Even in my simplistic nature, she found the qualities in me to constantly compliment my smallest efforts.

When things had changed? I don't really know. Maybe it was the inevitable coldness that eventually creeps into every marriage over time. And despite my first efforts to pour blame on her part, I was just as guilty. I wasn't used to becoming so bored with something. I always found something to occupy my time when I was away from her, looking forward to our reunion which was only that much sweeter through separation.

And then things became adrift.

The things that had once been just occupations for boredom, intermissions between our time together, began to grow into my happiest moments. It seemed that I no longer looked forward so much to her soft features that would greet me, my excitement more alight when my back was to her then when I was walking to meet her. At first I was certain that it was inevitability, my obsession with her simply fading. And then, to my horror, I realized that my obsession wasn't fading, but it was being replaced.

My most terrifying moment came when I had pumped inside her, having returned from Namek and taking full advantage of the sexual release we were indulging in. She had raked her long fingernails over my spine, whispering naughty, tantalizing scenarios through her lips, encouraging my wrathful efforts (which she knew I loved). I had filled her to the brim, her cozy, wet walls hugging my erection as I poured sweat over her heaving chest.

But through the vicious slapping of skin and heated breaths, I heard someone else's panting coming from her mouth.

And it wasn't female.

As I came, grinding out my orgasm through my teeth, I could hear laughter. And it wasn't hers. My face must have contorted strangely because she peered up at me, her bangs tangled with sweat, and asked me if something was wrong. And yeah... yeah, it was.

Cursing it as an odd reaction to our time spent apart, (not to mention the extremely odd circumstances I'd been faced with the previous months) I nearly forgot about it entirely, shrugging it off as I went on with my life. Yet, strangely enough, it followed me.
I would dive beneath surfaces of water, the bubbles and splashing drowned out by the sound of laughter in my ears. I would break the top of the water, my head darting in all directions as I searched for the source of such a disconcerting sound, finding nothing. It seemed as though there was almost an invisible being, following me around in my routine life, reminding me of its presence the second I'd forgotten about it.

But it was sex that was the worst, my mind utterly drenched in hot, panted breaths that weren't my wife's. Eventually, even the words she spoke, sick little fantasies and directions given in a male, accented voice. And certainly, it wasn't very long until I knew precisely whose voice it was. He was the one determining factor in my life that could pry apart the sides of me that were human and the ever present Saiyan instincts. And it seemed my humanity was losing the battle.

I began to wonder if perhaps his presence in my life had begun to effect my personality, unleashing my Saiyan nature and thus, when I was at my most primal, his voice would come to mind, encouraging me to be so. Sexually, I never really thought that there was much I was holding back when with ChiChi. Yet, with his encouraging whispers, I began to be more forceful with her, until I realized that in such, I could actually HURT my wife.

Times came when she would honestly tell me to go slower or to not be so rough, things I'd NEVER heard her say before. I think it must have even damaged her pride to have to ask it of me, considering she had always entertained the idea that in most ways, we were equals. Perhaps, now that I think on it, her animosity could have quite possibly spawned from the fact that we WEREN'T at all equal any longer. Time began to pry away at our similarities and the stronger I became, the less significant I think she felt. Perhaps, her constant belittling was a direct result of embitterment on her part.

She hated that I trained, because she couldn't do it with me. She hated that I could fly, because she couldn't. She despised my friends because she wasn't one of them and couldn't join us in our adventures. And the stronger her embitterment became, the more unbearable our time together was.

In Vegeta, I was fascinated. It was like I could watch him and learn so much about myself just doing it. He personified a lot of things about my nature that I had only suspected before. He was my confirmation about a lot of things I had wondered about myself growing up. He showed me through every movement he made how much stronger we were than them. His imploring eyes and flawless features were the present reminder that we were always going to be more beautiful than they were. His chiseled body spoke volumes of how our physiques differentiated from humans and the fact that we were created for fighting and indulging in violence.

The rough sounds of his voice and his accented words could soothe and ignite so much in me all at once. I could have listened to his stories about the past until there simply was no more future. He would sit beside me, probably perfectly aware of my growing attachment to him, and pour on about our heritage and pride and the future of our race if it hadn't been cut short.

He would tell me legends and stories he had heard as a child and the people he'd grown up amongst. Sad tales, comical adventures and horrific depictions of mass destruction he would admit to me, yet I hung on every word with unmasked idolism.

It's like he awoke some dormant part of my personality I'd never even knew existed. The side of me that let me smile just a little when he'd relay encounters in his past at which time he'd inacted the most cruel things. He shook awake the part of me that asked for more of his depictions of rape and genocide and purging, that seemed to insatiably yearn for more graphic tales of bloodshed. Though humans are bloodthirsty by nature, constantly seeking further ways to desensitize themselves, Saiyans are by far the worst in such aspects.

It was like every story he told fed this creature that crawled beneath my skin, unleashing the very Neanderthal part of me. I felt almost like a kid again, learning SO much that confirmed and solidified so much about my nature. His descriptions of our race calmed a lot of my questions about myself, justifying some of my natural differences from those around me.
There was a time when I could sit next to him and wonder just how I'd gotten so far in life without his guidance. And there was a time when I felt I couldn't possibly live a life without it.

Now as I stood in the kitchen of my home, ChiChi out in the living room with my son, I stared into the perfection that was his face and was reminded of that theory. What if I had never known who I was? What if Radditz had come and told me that I was different, yet I'd never had Vegeta to show me how... and who I was as a result of being different?

I thanked the Gods for him in that moment, regardless of how awkward our conversations sometimes could be.

"You need something," He grinned even wider, his eyes dangerously low as he leaned closer to me. I backed away, swallowing hard at his closeness. He never seemed to catch on to the social acceptancies of this planet, never really being aware of how his lack of personal space could make people uncomfortable. Or maybe, he was perfectly aware and just never gave a damn. Just another part of his unique being that made everyone completely mesmerized
with him.

"I.... do?" I coughed, leaning further back as he approached.

"Ohhhh yes," he purred, seeming to sniff at my throat on both sides. "I can positively smell it all over you."

I flinched as he breathed me in, my shoulders tense as his piercing eyes bore into me.

"I can sense it over every inch of your body," He whispered. "You positively reek with it."

"Do I." I more or less stated, not wanting to encourage any more of his prying observations. "Well, I probably need a good soak then."

"My thoughts exactly," he laughed, loving that he'd unnerved me so much. One of the few victories he always had over me. "Let's blow this joint."

"I can't Vegeta," I nodded towards the living room. "Not now. It's almost dinner and it's getting dark outside. My wife wouldn't possibly..."

As if she'd been summoned, ChiChi walked into the room on-cue, gazing at the odd scene with slight surprise. Her eyes darted from Vegeta, who made no immediate efforts to put space between us, and my flustered face that could barely keep eye-contact with her. Vegeta just smiled at her, winking flirtateously.

"I'm borrowing him." He told her simply, inviting no disagreements.

"Ok." She said, blinking hard.

And just like that, he'd won over her usual argumentative nature, exciting me and dismaying me at the same time. I loved being with him, that's true. In fact, I loved being out of the house, even when the prospect of food was in the picture. But as I followed him through the darkening sky, moving closer to the edge of the world where the light was farthest away, I had a foreboding feeling of dread. Something major was about to happen and whether it was good or not, I was flying straight into it.
The smell of sulfur bit at my nostrils, the air becoming thick with condensation. We flew low to the ground, the stars now thick over the midnight blue sky. Fog came over my eyesight in huge whisps, until I realized we were flying over hot springs, the heat of the natural water clashing with the cold air. It became so utterly thick that I was flying blind, nearly colliding with enormous pine trees in my attempt to pursue him.

"Vegeta!" I called out, when the bottoms of his boots had disappeared entirely from my sight. "Vegeta, I can't see!"

I hurried onwards, despite the fact that I was flying now entirely blind, my eyes squinting as the warm, moist air drenched them.

"Vegeta!" I called again, blinking hard.

"I'm here!" He spat, scaring me senseless as I collided with him. His arms locked around me like two vises on either side of me, my elbows clenched against my sides as he tore us downwards. I cried out as we soared at breakneck speed, my stomach in my throat as he ripped us down towards the unknown.

Water and heat erupted volcanically around my body, my head under hot water as we broke the surface of a spring. A trillion bubbles flew before my eyes as I squinted through the dark water, making out his smiling face only inches from my own. He still embraced me painfully, his hair floating in tantalizing slowness before his cruel, laughing eyes.

I yanked out of his hold, gazing up before breaking the surface with a gasp.

"You might have warned me," I growled, when he followed me, water pouring down his face. "My clothes will never be dry by tomorrow."

His chest heaved in excitement, his sporty, tight black t-shirt clinging to his ripped pectorals.

"You said you needed a good soak," he grinned, moving his arms to keep him above water. I could feel the movements of his legs beneath, the warm water moving against me with every kick.

"Heh," I groaned. "I meant one without my clothes on preferably
."

It seemed as though I'd taken a big bare-butt leap into his trap, his eyes alighting as he smiled wide.

"That can be arranged."

"Cute," I spat smartly, rolling my eyes and trying to ignore the suggestiveness of damn near everything he said. He could catch my unease like a fly trap, chuckling darkly. "So now what do we do?"

"Easy," He licked his lips, moving closer to me than was AT ALL necessary. "Shhh... it's a secret."

I swallowed a ball of something that had formed in my throat, trying not to recoil as his face touched my cheek and he whispered in my ear.

"We...." He breathed sexually. "Soak."

With that he laughed at my expense, dragging me under with him as he swam through the lake of hot water. I rolled my eyes behind my lids, shrugging as I followed him, holding my breath and indulging in the natural warmth that the earth provided. I actually began to even enjoy myself, laughing heartily when we bashed into each other, or when we caught glimpses of the star streaked sky as we floated on our backs. The cold wind over the stretch of the water chilled our skin as we floated, side by side, the only sound that of our breathing and the gentle movements of our arms to keep us up.

"Vegeta," I breathed, moving my head just a bit to look at him. "Thanks."

"Hm," He laughed a little, looking back at the sky. "no problem."

It seemed the most perfect moment I could recall suddenly, just us two, in a void of space and time. Besides each other and the water, we couldn't even see glimpses of the shore or the trees that no doubt surrounded us. Tiny pieces of the sky through winds that caught the fog would peep down at us occasionally, but besides that, it was just us in all the world it seemed. And that, to me, was perfect.

"I've never brought any body else here," He admitted to me, breaking the silence but not the serenity. "It was just my special place for so long."
I nodded, though I knew he couldn't see it, wondering why he chose to change that; and why for me?
"I used to come here and catch those little pieces of the sky," He pointed as one appeared through the dim, white fog. "and wonder if I'd been to this planet or that."
An odd smile graced his face, odd enough for me to notice since I'd studied it profusely throughout the years.
"I used to wonder," he continued, "if maybe at some point, I'd looked at the stars from a different planet, and had somehow gazed on this one."He shrugged."The things we know now," He mused. "I wonder if everything would have been so different if I knew then, what things I know now."
"What do you know now?" I asked him.
He looked over, mouth open slightly as he let a little grin form on it.
"A lot more than I knew then," he cracked, looking up again. "I used to think that next to Frieza, I was the strongest person in the whole universe. I used to think that once he was gone, I'd rule the same way he did. In fact, I went so far as to study every fucking technique the guy had. Enslaving people, conquering their strongest to humble their ideas of strength. Crush all hopes until in the minds of an infinitely weaker species, he WAS the only hope."
I watched the way his lips moved, magnified by what he spoke.
"And then you came along," he said in a deeper voice, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, face suddenly serious. "And everything I 'knew'... wasn't true at all.""What..." I paused. "What do you mean?"
"Frieza is gone," he said softly. "you saw to that. And again, I'm second best."
I looked away from him, gazing up through the fog and not seeing the sky any longer. I suddenly felt the tranquility of the moment melting away, a sort of unstoppable guilt lingering in my heart.
"And even now that all the universe COULD be mine," He said. "And even though it's obvious you have no desire to take his place, neither do I."
I felt my eyebrows contort at that admission, unexpected as it was
"I dreamed my entire life of one day being able to rule the universe," he mused. "And now, I guess I probably could. I could probably leave here, you'd probably never follow or try to stop me, and based on the idea that I'd never bother earth, I could rule in Frieza's place."
I thought about that, nodding when everything he'd said was reasoned to be completely true. No, I don't think I ever would have stopped him if that was his intent. Yet what he said next stopped me from voicing the obvious.
"But I don't want that." He breathed to the wind. "Hell, I don't know what I want. But I don't think it's what I always dreamed I wanted. I have spent so much of my life wanting something so blindly that now that its within my reach..." He shook his head. "It seems so utterly stupid and pointless."
We were silent for a while, both contemplating what had been said and the restored tranquility of the moment. He had brought me here, to his special place, to the place that he'd never shown anyone. What did that mean? How had things changed between us from the undoubtable rivalry and violence, to this moment in time when I was his confident of his childhood secrets?
"What will you do?" I asked, honestly wanting to know.
"I don't know." He said, laughing slightly. "For the first time in my life, I don't really have a path. First, I was the born Prince of everyone around me. That was my place, that was my path. Then, I was Frieza's little errand boy," a roughness around that statement caused me to cringe a bit. "who thought only of the day when that bastard finally got his and I was restored to royalty in the universe. But now?" He blinked. "It's the first time in my life when I'm not being told or ordered to be who I am. And...." he got quiet for a second, sorting his words. "I guess I don't know how to feel about it."
I wanted to reassure him, to console his troubled thoughts. But he was right. I'd never lived a life of servitude or slavery or even any sort of royal status. No one had ever really guided me or told me what to do or who to be. I had teachers and helpers but all by choice of companionship. I couldn't promise or guarantee him anything.
"I'm free," He whispered, as though he was just realizing it himself. "And it's something I've always dreamed of."
I looked at his face, at the gorgeous contours that made every angle of him desirable. I wanted so badly to touch him, a reaction I wasn't used to having with anyone. It worried me and I kept my fingers clenched into fists by my sides, unable to trust myself around him suddenly.
"And now that I have it," He continued on, oblivious to me. "It's almost the scariest feeling I've ever had."
"Well," I said after a moment. "You've always got me here."
I don't really know why I said it. It wasn't even appropriate for the topic, only a very quick reassurance that I knew I had to voice. Like I needed to remind him that in all the worries and uncertainties, he did have one constant. Like I was offering myself, my friendship and my trust up to him on a platter, no holds bared. He just smiled oddly at me, sitting up and floating with the water at his chin.
He moved closer to me, the water pooling over his mouth until only his dark, intimidating eyes were above it, both locked unmistakably upon mine. I dipped forwards as well, meeting his stare as he came closer towards my face, eyes locked as we were only now inches apart.
"Yes," he breathed, cool wind blowing his drenched hair. "And what an enigma you are."
I gulped, embarrassed to be so uneasy around him, unable to decipher his constant obsession for making me feel awkward at his behavior.
"Tell me," he whispered seductively. "what does the strongest man in the universe dream about at night? The man who seemingly desires nothing but peace, yet wages a war behind black eyes?"
"I...I don't know what you're asking," I admitted, shivering slightly at the icy air around my moist face.
He grinned in response, his fingers wrapping around my wrist and dipping my hand beneath the surface.
"This is how you make me feel," He breathed, watching my reaction and never taking his gaze off me.
"Hot...." He pulled my hand out of the water, letting the cold air of his breath and the wind chill the wet skin of my fingertips. "And cold. At the same time."
I felt blood drain from my face, my knees weak as the erotic-ness of the situation dawned on me. Against myself, I fought a war for something I didn't even realize could ever be a weakness, my whole body quivering with this intensity I couldn't even place. Like every reserve, every natural control I had over myself was suddenly questioned and I was wanting something I'd never NEVER considered before.
I suddenly wanted to be around him so badly that the mere thought of it made me blink in astonishment. Every facial expression was played out before his imploring eyes, my embarrassment forgotten as I tried desperately to simply control myself. I wanted him so blindly I felt like I needed to close my eyes just to purge the thoughts, knowing that even if I did, the whole process would be pointless. Like I'd been infected with insanity, I wanted sex so bad I thought I'd spontaneously orgasm right then and there.
The hotness of his wet hand wrapped around my wrist, when it dawned on me, I wanted it wrapped around something else. Hotness trickled beneath my pantline, my skin shivering around me. I felt almost betrayed by everything! My thoughts, my body, my mind... everything I had always fought to control was now controlling me.
"Vegeta," I stuttered. "Vegeta,.... I...."
Without another word, he silenced my war, throwing in a treaty when his lips enclosed mine. I thought that in such a thing, I would have exploded, combusting right then in there. And I guess, in a really distinct way, I did. Like every nerve ending and tendon in my body was suddenly flickering with magic, I met his kiss with my own, taking his soft bottom lip into my mouth. All thought process was altered, from confusion and guilt, to something so much more. Something void of pettiness and consequences. Something more pure and more wonderful than any feeling I'd ever known.
My eyelids even flickered, my lashes batting as my pupils rolled into my head, the feeling of his silky tongue streaking over my top lip positively indescribable. It was the most sexual I'd ever felt; the most beautiful, the most magical, the most erotic I'd ever EVER experienced life. Like what heaven must be like or something.
Just the two of us, in a great void of everything else. Kissing passionately between the worlds of hot and cold, contained in a thick, white cloud.
He wrapped his arms around me, yanking me forcefully against him as we delved deeper into each other. I wanted to moan my happiness, to scream it, to cry it. It was like everything else just melted away. Every worry, every guilt, every sadness or loss or despair I'd ever had was suddenly so forgotten, it was like it'd never been there at all. Like I was being born or something. Everything was new and fresh and sparkled between my lashes.
I thought I could explode with a happiness I never even realized existed.
And then he'd pulled away, his gorgeous lips leaving mine for only a second as he whispered just a couple words, but precisely what I was feeling at the moment.
"Just me and you," He breathed against my mouth. "Just me and you."
Our lips joined once more, my eyes closing as I realized that that's the only thing I ever wanted. Ever ever again.




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