Melia36

Am I so unworthy that I don't deserve a capital letter at the start of a sentence, a question mark when inquiring, and someone who can discern the difference between "your" and "you're"? True, I'm a snob in this regard but at least get the first two right. Thank you for reading. *angelic smile* 

Funny, the little things.

One person may lift my heart and soul to soar with magical hope...push my body to that place where it aches so beautifully...fill my head with tantalizing yet sweet thoughts of pain and beauty and belonging...

Then another can so easily, burst the balloon that is me with their idiocy and utter disrespect and assuming arrogance.

My head tilts into his cradling palm, calloused flesh scraping against the smooth skin of my jaw. Daringly I raise my gaze, his eyes already searing into me...through me. Fuck, I love this man. I tremble. He smiles. The mere feel of his thumb reassuringly brushing against my skin, makes me feel safe. Wanted. His broad frame slides closer to my lithe one, heat radiating through my pores as that consuming tremble pulses through me. "You're safe, my love," he whispers. I exhale, a single tear dancing down my face. I curl against him. I belong.

His lips curve upward as the warmth of his eyes burn against my flesh. He sees me. I feel the hynotic rise and fall of my chest, faster and faster as I burn inward out. The roughness of his fingertips couple blissfully with the soft plain of my cheek's flesh. He tilts his head, studying my delicate features. The beauty of his eyes deepening. Darker and darker. "I love you so," he barely manages to whisper as his fingers fan out like the sun, wrapping tenderly around my neck. He squeezes. Softly. Tightening. Gripping. Digging. Choking. Time stands still. He releases as I gasp for my beloved breath, coughing, inhaling the burn of my throat like a drug. He tenderly brushes his lips to mine and leads me to our bed. I wear his stripes around my neck for the next week, smiling.