ext_335733 ([identity profile] snarkycleverwit.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] 15_minute_fic 2007-10-31 08:17 am (UTC)

Title: Unnamed.
Fandom/original: Original
Characters: 2 unnamed
Rating: PG
Word count: 485

My mind was a swirl of emotions; happiness, fear, reluctance, contentment – I didn’t know how to process it. I just stared back in to his reproachful eyes, almost guilty for the games that I had been playing.

I didn’t do it on purpose. I had never been a tease – it wasn’t me, and it certainly wasn’t within his nature to rise above his passive-aggression.

He was charming, and sweet and considerate and everything that I ever wanted a man to be. I didn’t need him to know that, though. I didn’t want him to know just how hard my heart had begun to beat for him. I didn’t want him to know that the way his slender fingertips danced around in my palm rendered me speechless.

I didn’t need him to know that whenever I was in his presence I felt spell bound. I watched his lips so closely, anticipating every single word that fell out of his mouth and on to my heart leaving an impression so deep and so vivid that sometimes I found it hard to breathe.

Was it love?

His crooked, genuine smile reached me like warm sunrays. It was infectious, I could never contain my grin. I often found him smiling at me, his jet-black hair, combed back neatly, freshly shaven—proving this by allowing me to run my forefingers over his smooth cheek.

He always made me feel so wonderful, worthy, loved; beautiful.

Infatuation was something that I had flirted with many times in the past, but this was different – this was real. I had never felt so taken by someone in my entire life. I had never admired someone as deeply as I admired him. I had never looked so deep in to a man’s eyes and felt as though I was drowning.

Those eyes, I thought with a sickly sweet nausea. Those eyes, they were the colour of tea and honey. I breathed a sigh as I tried to gain bearing on my feelings. His eyes were the kind that told me everything – the windows to his soul, as clichéd as it was – and I knew just by looking in to them that he held me in the highest regard –

That he loved me.

Each time he slipped his hand in mine, each time he gazed in to my eyes showing me a tender side that I hadn’t ever been shown and every single time he put an arm around my waist showing possession and security, I felt myself slowly reaching the heavens.

I wanted to admit that I felt the same…

But – such a heavy hypothetic.

Being in love meant that I would have to relinquish the control of my feelings – and I was such a control freak. So I guessed that I’d always have to wonder…

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