Author's website: http://www.livejournal.com/users/silentfire

Disclaimer: i don't own them- never have, never will. but they're pretty, so i like to borrow them every now and again.

Author's Notes:

Story Notes: a few nights ago i felt this need to write. nothing in particular, so i just sat down and started typing. super-short and i guess there's a little bit of me in the speaker.

Why aren't you here?

You know I need you, need you like I need oxygen- maybe more so. A few brain cells seem a trifling price to pay to have you near.

I can see you in my mind's eye- every detail, every mannerism. I know the length of your stride, the angle of your body (every angle on your body), the don't-fuck-with-me attitude you keep balanced somewhere at the base of your spine. You walk like your childhood idols, tough, confident heroes you watched as a kid.

In yet another daydream-movie in which you are the star, you walk toward me and allow me a glimpse of that shining grin, the one that curls slowly across your lips. You always turn it into a tease, making me brush light kisses across your mouth until you finally give in and kiss me back. You love making me crazy, don't you?

You stand at arm's length; this, too, is part of your game (how you manage patience in this I'll never know- it's the only time you exhibit the trait). At this moment I feel a very real gravitational pull, and there's nothing I'd like better than to fall into the black hole. But I fight it and take a moment to look at you.

You're an extraordinary creature, all sharp lines and defined features and powerful masculinity. The energy around you is a tangible thing; your lean frame practically vibrates with it. You call yourself skinny and gangly, but you move with (admittedly surprising) grace and there is nothing frail about you besides your psyche.

You are beautiful, and I'll do whatever it takes to make you believe it.

You take a step forward and continue the exquisite torture- close enough to touch but still a galaxy away. I ache to touch you, to trace patterns on your skin with my fingertips and my tongue until you're trembling. From your spiky hair to the balls of your feet, I know I could go over it all inch by inch and be eager to start over again.

I know you worry about it sometimes, but I could never, never get tired of you.

You slide your eyes up my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. When they finally meet mine, the pure heat in them is replaced by a tenderness you'll never admit to. I know it's there, though; you wear masks very well, but your eyes say what your voice sometimes can't.

The real surprise is the realization that you can see through my defenses, too. No matter how I fight it, you always break down the walls I've built against the world. It strikes me sometimes that you are aptly named- you are the light that saved me from my shadows.

How was I ever happy before you?

Finally, finally, you raise you hand to my cheek. I close my eyes and give in to the sensations, the emotions stirring in and around me. Nothing is real but you and how you make me feel. Your body moves closer to mine- I can feel it- and I lift my arms to hold you at last . . .

and then I blink, and realize I'm alone.

Come back to me soon. There's plenty of air, but I'm gasping for breath- for you.

End Lonely Vision by BlueJade: bluejade@partlycloudy.com

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