His eyes were blue. The flecks of grey danced when he was happy, and the blue deepened when he was aroused. And they did other things, too, that I didn’t understand.
I couldn’t pin him down.
Sometimes, all I needed to become putty in your hands was a quick glance. You know, the one when I looked over without consciously realising why, but both seeking and finding reassurance in the way you looked back at me. I don’t know – sometimes I wonder if I looked in pain; I often feel it, even now, like how I can imagine a lost animal must feel, a little puppy that isn’t really sure how to handle the world and the things it’s meant to do in it. But then you caught my gaze with your own, just for a moment. Your eyes shone and your lips turned up at the corners, oh, just a tiny bit. And you winked. That one tiny, almost invisible motion, like an electric shock to my belly. It ignited me with a craving for your attention, a burning desire to have your arm pull me into you and your lips against my neck. It filled me until I could feel it in my fingernails and it left my knees quivering as it snaked down to attack my toes.
Every time, I felt my eyes widen as I stared back, unable to take my face from yours. And I had no control over the beam that spread across my lips and lit up my soul. What you couldn’t see was how my entire body burned inside from just one look, how much that heat scorched me with a need and a desire you would know and feel and never forget if I had touched you then, and how it left every part of me smouldering for hours as my memory replayed it over and over when you were no longer there. Reliving a single moment that belonged to only you and me. That split second was all it took to know that I would follow you anywhere, from the heavenly enveloping of your purest love to the fiery dungeon of your deepest desires. Devoted. Knowing in that one split second that you cared. That, when you played with me, it’s because you wanted to, and not out of obligation.
I couldn’t be part of that world of yours. And, as much as it hurts, even now, I’d rather be reduced to your part-time choice than discarded as nothing at all. I never wanted to lose the tiny signs – the signs, like your wink, that told me you just might, actually, be in love with me, too. I don’t know what that wink meant to you. But I know how it made me feel.
And I miss your eyes, so blue with flecks of grey.
Email: *wink*. And there’s that feeling, all over again. If only I knew how to pin him down.