Nicholas "Cole" Parker
Shifter
Posts: 27 
200x300 avatar: http://i.imgur.com/IgsZx6x.png?1
App: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/52/nicholas-cole-parker-red
Plot: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/95/reds-little-monsters
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Post by Nicholas "Cole" Parker on Aug 6, 2015 7:08:31 GMT
[newclass=.infobxyaki]position:relative;overflow:hidden;[/newclass][newclass=.infobxyaki .infoxakitextbx]width:300px;position:absolute;top:0;left:0;margin-left:-300px;background-color:#141414;margin-top:60px;text-align:center;[/newclass][newclass=.infobxyaki:hover .infoxakitextbx]margin-left:70px;margin-top:60px;[/newclass][newclass=.infoblahaki]padding:5px;font-family:Arial;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:5px;font-size:8px;text-transform:uppercase;color:#b3b3b3;[/newclass][newclass=.infoxakitextbx]-webkit-transition: all 0.7s ease;transition: all 0.7s ease;[/newclass] [newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark ]margin-top:10px;height:200px;overflow:auto;padding:5px;[/newclass][newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark::-webkit-scrollbar]width:3px;[/newclass][newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark::-webkit-scrollbar-track]background-color:#141414[/newclass][newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color:#272727;[/newclass] [googlefont="Pathway Gothic One"]
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one in a million my lucky strike
TAG | MUSE | WORDS 750 | NOTES time to sob. ;-; |
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e was in a stupor. What the hell had just happened? The man felt as though his entire life had been uprooted with a few words. ‘I hate you, Cole Parker.’ Her bitter words haunted his mind like an overused audio track; relentless, and agonizingly painful to listen to. He rested his elbows on his knees as he perched upon the bed they’d shared, slowly sipping away at one of his more expensive alcoholic beverages (he hadn’t paid attention to which one). Though he couldn’t mute these memories, and they were only to grow worse as the moments passed. Luckily the alcohol helped. Logically, he knew that the concept was simply emotional bullshit. It was all mind games dictated by the neurons in his skull, and nothing more. Life was still perfect. Perfect house, perfect car, and perfect job. He still showed up to work every day in new suits that cost more than colleague’s rents. Nothing had changed. Nothing except for the fact that his ‘perfect’ girl had discovered his not so perfect secrets. It all felt like a dream...one that dove quickly into a nightmare. But the real question was, was he devastated because was losing her…. Or because he’d gotten caught? The man had morals, standards, and a conscience (however warped and selfish they may be), all of which had been broken by his one mistake. He wouldn’t go so far as to mention guilt…but he surely despised the situation he’d been put in. Even as self-absorbed as he was, he was incapable of ignoring the pain in his chest as he gazed absently at the suitcase on the bed, imagining the moment in which it disappeared, and took her along with it. Then there was the bitter reality that he would no longer wake up in the company of his partner in crime, and that the bed would be frigid without her heated company. He would soon have to live with the knowledge that she was off into the world with the potential to find someone else, and that anyone and everyone was now able to lay a hand on her. A guttural hiss began in the man at the thought, although quickly fleeting into writhing envy. Surely it was a comical thought, but he needed nothing more than to protect her, and every fond memory they ever shared. Yet, that ability was now coming to an end. However the worst pain, strangely enough, was the sight of the fierce woman cracking. She attempted to hide behind the wall she built, and for the average person on the street she hid well; but he knew her better than that. He was attuned to her quirks, and knew her varying moods. He could pick up on the flame in her eye seconds before she was able to verbalize her anger; he would even go so far as to say he could tell if she wore her typical teasing smirk – just by the feeling of her lips against his own. He loved every second of their chemistry; every damn second. “Fuck.” He dragged his hand over his features in utter frustration before rising. He needed a haircut and a shave; his normally immaculate 5 o’clock shadow was well past its prime. In all honesty attempting such, and missing her face in the mirror beside him, would only drive him back to the exact position in which he sat; negotiating. “The past is the fucking past. I can’t change what I did. I can’t go back into time. If I could, you know I would. For you.” For a normally even-tempered and poised man, he was rather agitated, and began pacing fervently across the floor. “Do you think I wanted my cousin to hate me? Do you think I wanted them to lose that child?” Anger briefly flashed through his cool eyes before settling to a steady simmer, his voice falling to a rumble. “What the hell do you expect me to do, Cass?”
“You’re being completely childish.” Now it was his turn to crack, and in the hairline fracture of his pride the man’s shoulders slumped; defeated. He already knew she’d decided, and that there was probably not a thing he could do to change her mind once she’d made it up. He silently picked up one of the woman’s stray shirts and drew his fingertips across the fabric, knowing he would probably never get the luxury again. “Please, Cass. You don’t have to do this.” He pleaded quietly. ISHY of THQ & ADOXOGRAPHY |
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Cassia Alia Macario
Fable
Posts: 36
200x300 avatar: http://i61.tinypic.com/mtxcup.jpg
App: http://free-rein.boards.net/post/1073/thread
Plot: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/229/plot-thickens-insights-plotter
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Post by Cassia Alia Macario on Aug 7, 2015 2:26:16 GMT
The less I give the more I get back Your hands can heal, your hands can bruise I don't love you, but I always will “ She wielded silence like a shield because she knew the moment she opened her mouth she was either going to scream or cry and she did not cry. She felt herself so numb and cold on the inside and all she had right now to sustain her was her anger, her blind rage. She should have known better. It was just all to perfect and she'd known it all along. It was better this way. It was better she got out now while she could with her heart salvageable...if broken pieces could be salvaged that is. She moved with single minded purpose, gathering her belongings out of the bathroom and throwing them into the bag without care. Hairbrush, toothbrush - she'd leave him the toothpaste (he was running low), bobby pins, hairspray, everything she threw into the bag with barely contained violence. He was there. She could smell him and the expensive bourbon in the other room waiting for her. She didn't want to go out. She wanted to crawl into the shower, turn on the hot water and sit under the stream and let it hide the tears she wanted to release. She wanted to forget the pain and to stop pretending that this didn't hurt, but the show wasn't over yet. She steeled herself as she banged open the bathroom door, throwing her bag full of toiletries into the black suitcase, unmindful and uncaring if it slapped him or hit him. He was lucky that she was letting him breathe at this point. She was armed with anger and it was the only thing sustaining her right now. “The past is the fucking past. I can’t change what I did. I can’t go back into time. If I could, you know I would. For you. Do you think I wanted my cousin to hate me? Do you think I wanted them to lose that child? What the hell do you expect me to do, Cass?” She snapped her gaze to him, but said nothing. Her silence more deafening than cannon fire as she felt the rage and tension building up in her. She flashed him a glare of rage at the words, but continued on with the silent treatment, turning her back on him and stalking over to the drawers and grabbing her remaining belongings in silent rage. She refused to look at him, knowing that if she allowed it she'd be tempted to cave, to capitulate and her heart, though seeping now, was at least still beating. It was better to get out now. It was better this way. Like a band aid, she just needed to rip this off and get over it. She saw some of her shoes in the closest and turned her back on him again, stalking to grab her black stilettos she'd kicked off one evening. The memories so sweet, flashed in pain at their feverish hands, ripping clothes and throwing shoes - No. She shook her head, refusing the memory to soften her. She knew that if she was ever going to survive Cole Parker she had to get out now. “You’re being completely childish.” She lost her shit then. Rage blinded her as she threw a well aimed stiletto at his head, not caring if it stabbed him in the eye or if he blocked it. "You want to see childish?! That was childish. And yes! Yes I do have to do this." She rushed over to the suitcase and threw in the other materials. She didn't make an attempt to go after the thrown shoe. Hell, he could keep it for all she cared. She zipped it shut violently and stood to stare him down. This was it. This was the final show down and she knew there was no coming back from this. "I never asked for anything Cole and I know that you can't change your past. Hell, I know I am NOT a good person, but I never lied to you. I never pretended or hide secrets because I trusted you Cole and for some fucking reason I thought you trusted me!" She hissed, hurt and anger dancing in her eyes. She raked a hand through her tangled hair, other hand grabbing her bag. "Something like this Cole...YOU SHARE. You don't sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. So how is this...," she gestured violently between them, "any different that you pounding away at that other woman. Was i just another conquest? Another notch in your belt? A BETTER LAY? BECAUSE CONGRATS. You got your screw, your happy time and now I'm paying for the fallout."“Please, Cass. You don’t have to do this.” His silent plea nearly shattered her, but she knew that if she caved now it would be a lifetime of questioning and mistrust and doubt and she couldn't live with that. Deep down though, she knew she didn't want to leave him and yet she couldn't stay. She stilled and found the steel to look into his cold ice blue eyes. "Prove it Cole. Tell me how what we had was more. That this wasn't some casual fling. Prove it to me and I'll stay." She jutted her chin out defiantly, but her eyes held a haunted hope in it, a hope that she knew in all reality was soon about to die. ” notes this is so freaking sad i can't handle it. |
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Nicholas "Cole" Parker
Shifter
Posts: 27
200x300 avatar: http://i.imgur.com/IgsZx6x.png?1
App: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/52/nicholas-cole-parker-red
Plot: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/95/reds-little-monsters
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Post by Nicholas "Cole" Parker on Aug 7, 2015 19:13:05 GMT
[newclass=.infobxyaki]position:relative;overflow:hidden;[/newclass][newclass=.infobxyaki .infoxakitextbx]width:300px;position:absolute;top:0;left:0;margin-left:-300px;background-color:#141414;margin-top:60px;text-align:center;[/newclass][newclass=.infobxyaki:hover .infoxakitextbx]margin-left:70px;margin-top:60px;[/newclass][newclass=.infoblahaki]padding:5px;font-family:Arial;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:5px;font-size:8px;text-transform:uppercase;color:#b3b3b3;[/newclass][newclass=.infoxakitextbx]-webkit-transition: all 0.7s ease;transition: all 0.7s ease;[/newclass] [newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark ]margin-top:10px;height:200px;overflow:auto;padding:5px;[/newclass][newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark::-webkit-scrollbar]width:3px;[/newclass][newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark::-webkit-scrollbar-track]background-color:#141414[/newclass][newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color:#272727;[/newclass] [googlefont="Pathway Gothic One"]
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one in a million my lucky strike
TAG | MUSE | WORDS 800 | NOTES cole mad. ;-; |
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espair, misery, heartache... they’d never came easily to him. He was above the emotions, and just simply never needed to use them in the mundane events that made up his life. Or, perhaps he just had a nasty habit of living in denial in times of emotional stress, instead flashing a composed smile as he left his trouble behind him. Replacements for these underused emotions varied, but for him it was fury... And to hell if he wasn’t feeling quite a bit volatile. He could feel the jaguar within him waiting eagerly like an innate need, an outlet to channel the aggressive energy that suddenly coursed through him following her words. He felt it within his bones just as certain as he knew he felt something for her. The beast was impatient, stalking behind the shield that was his icy demeanor just looking for escape, a weakness… and it was sure to find one, by way of stiletto no less. The slender shoe she’d pitched ricocheted off his forehead as he ducked to avoid it, but that pointy little bastard was going to leave a nasty bruise. Fury flashed through his icy eyes and his pacing ceased abruptly. In the very second that she snapped, he did as well. Yellow-brown fur quickly rose in place of tanned skin, fangs erupting as his jaw elongated, shifting quickly into the animal in which he felt at that moment in time. As the high-heel tumbled to the floor the predator swatted it away with a massive paw, a ragged growl reverberating through his inhuman ribcage, directed singularly at her. He was all coiled energy as he sprung from his place, his wide paws finding her shoulders in order to force her back onto the bed in which she was so eager to leave. His lean body stood rigid over hers, determined to keep her where he pleased, and yet he kept his claws sheathed. No, he had no intentions to lay a finger on her but nonetheless he bared imposing fangs, a hiss escaping around the pristine ivories which hovered inches from her face. She was simply stunning from this proximity and he noted her every perfect feature, but each moment in her presence spiraled him closer to agony in his chest and the rage that ultimately teemed in its place. Cole squeezed his eyes shut, lips drawing tighter into his fixed snarl as he fought off his own feelings. He had to stay focused, he had to get his point across some way or the other. The man loathed shifting just as much as he did losing. But this, this rift she’d formed between them, was enough to override the hate. “A screw?!” He spat venom telepathically at the woman and his ears pinned flat against his spotted skull. “You think for a damn second I would have wasted my time if I only wanted you for a screw?!” If jaguars could scoff he would surely being doing so, his snarl deepening. “That I would put myself through all of this emotional torment, for a screw?!” The feline’s tail lashed furiously. “Inviting you into my home, taking off valuable work time so that I could spend five extra minutes with you; laying with you, kissing you, getting to know you. Let me tell you now; that in itself should have been a fucking clue, however subtle of one. But if you’re too consumed with the past to breathe without consulting my mistakes, then maybe this is something long overdue.” Amber yellow eyes narrowed to slits and his gaze never wavered from her own. “I have one hundred and one things to do with my time, Cass, and wasting it for a fucking ‘pat on the back’, is not one of them.” Paws flexed against her shoulders, and the nasty growl in his tone dropped several notches. “What did you expect from a man like me?” He asked genuinely, tilting his broad feline head. “You seem to know the consequences of getting your hopes up, better than most. Trust me when I tell you I had no intentions of ever hurting you, but some things just can’t stay buried forever. I’m sorry.” His shoulders shifted as his sudden bloodlust began to fail him, yet another crack in his shield. “You want proof? Why don't you look back on everything we've ever shared, and ask yourself for a moment if any of that felt fake. Some things are better left unspoken Cass, and we are one of them. You want me to shove my feelings for you into a couple words and I can’t. There is no fucking summary, for this.” Fur gave way to skin once more, and hurt was briefly visible in his eyes as he turned to leave. |
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Cassia Alia Macario
Fable
Posts: 36
200x300 avatar: http://i61.tinypic.com/mtxcup.jpg
App: http://free-rein.boards.net/post/1073/thread
Plot: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/229/plot-thickens-insights-plotter
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Post by Cassia Alia Macario on Aug 8, 2015 18:05:00 GMT
The less I give the more I get back Your hands can heal, your hands can bruise I don't love you, but I always will “ She stilled at first in shock and then in rage as his jaguar form pinned her to the bed. She laid in muted silence, her hands shifting into dragon like talons and that was the only sign on her inner rage as they collided, body against body. She hated the way her body instantly responded to his. The delicious heavy weight of him, had her body wanting to melt into the covers and forget everything, to forget it all. His words were well aimed barbs that sunk into her soul and threatened to tether him to him forever and that scared her shitless. Her eyes radiated defiance as his words telepathically shot into her mind. She couldn't escape him. He'd marked her for forever, but the foundation of who they were as a couple had been rocked and cracked. She knew she couldn't build a future on a cracked foundation, but she didn't know how they could repair the damage done. Despair overwhelmed her, her eyes filling with tears at his words, tears she refused to let fall as every memory came to her in a rush. Their lazy mornings, pulling him back into bed and exploring each other's bodies, the casual touches and the odd simplicity of brushing their teeth alongside one another. They were perfect gilded memories, forever immortalized within her very soul. He'd made her feel content and safe and he'd ruined her. He'd ruined her for any other man or creature alive because it would always be him. He would be the one she'd imagine running his hands over her body, teasing and caressing. It would be his tongue that she'd imagine playing so coyly with her own and tasting her skin. It would be his face that she'd forever have locked away as hers and now she knew. She knew it was him. He was hers and she wanted so desperately to be his, but to admit that would cost her everything - her pride, her dignity, her heart and her soul. And recent events had her scared to trust him. She never trusted others. She'd learned hard in life that the only one she could ever count on was herself and then he had to come into her bar one evening and trash her life. She couldn't afford to trust him. Especially not now in light of recent events and she didn't know how to fix it. She didn't know how to overcome the barriers she was throwing up and she knew it was those barriers that was going to doom them. She was dooming them for failure. He turned to go and something within her shattered. She couldn't do what he asked. She couldn't move on and risk it all - it would cost her everything, but she could ease the pain of parting. What he didn't know wouldn't kill him and in the long run he would see. They would be better apart than together...it was what she had to believe. He was right. There were no words for what they had and so she did the only she could do. Show him, reassure him that they were something more - for now. She couldn't deny they were something special, but knew that it was special for this season, for right now and she was going to take that moment. She was going to take what she could get and then cherish it and hold it for the rest of her life. He was trying to smash her barriers for a lifetime and that she couldn't give, but today, yes today she could pretend that they had forever. His jaguar form melted into that of the man's and she knew in that moment that he turned to go what he needed, what she needed. She kicked the suitcase off the bed in blind rage and frustration, not caring when it hit the ground with a crash. She leaned up violently, her eyes flashing from their piercing turquoise to her flaring yellow reptilian. Her true nature riding her hard to take what she knew was hers. For today only. Strong fingers clamped around his left arm as he turned from her and she drug him back to her. Her mouth met his hard in blind need, her frustrations and anger, desires and need poured into that kiss. She battled her tongue against his, both looking for dominance and venting their heated frustrations on one another, but she felt it. She felt that undercurrent of need they had as their bodies crackled with the electric chemistry that always existed between them. She parted briefly from his lips, holding him flush against her body, unwilling and unable to handle any distance between them. She panted in need and desperation against his lips and let shields drop for this blissful moment. It was this moment, this encounter that would warm her on cold, lonely nights and she was going to make sure that this encounter was hot enough to burn brightly in her memories for the rest of her life. "Show me Cole. Show me what we have." She whispered against his lips, begging and needing him to make love to her. To feel her body branded by his. "Please." she all but begged, her voice, hoarse and husky with need and pain, her eyes watering as she let the silent tears fall down her face. She welcomed his body with hers, knowing that when he slipped into his sleep, she would have to slip from his life. ” notes just. i. yeah. whatever. i hate life right now.
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Nicholas "Cole" Parker
Shifter
Posts: 27
200x300 avatar: http://i.imgur.com/IgsZx6x.png?1
App: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/52/nicholas-cole-parker-red
Plot: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/95/reds-little-monsters
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Post by Nicholas "Cole" Parker on Aug 9, 2015 4:41:54 GMT
[newclass=.infobxyaki]position:relative;overflow:hidden;[/newclass][newclass=.infobxyaki .infoxakitextbx]width:300px;position:absolute;top:0;left:0;margin-left:-300px;background-color:#141414;margin-top:60px;text-align:center;[/newclass][newclass=.infobxyaki:hover .infoxakitextbx]margin-left:70px;margin-top:60px;[/newclass][newclass=.infoblahaki]padding:5px;font-family:Arial;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:5px;font-size:8px;text-transform:uppercase;color:#b3b3b3;[/newclass][newclass=.infoxakitextbx]-webkit-transition: all 0.7s ease;transition: all 0.7s ease;[/newclass] [newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark ]margin-top:10px;height:200px;overflow:auto;padding:5px;[/newclass][newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark::-webkit-scrollbar]width:3px;[/newclass][newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark::-webkit-scrollbar-track]background-color:#141414[/newclass][newclass=.smallinfoboxyakidark::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color:#272727;[/newclass] [googlefont="Pathway Gothic One"]
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one in a million my lucky strike
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ole believed the woman to be done with him, fed up and especially furious given the throbbing bruise on his forehead, and he hadn’t expected anything further from her. More silent treatment maybe, an attempt to throw the suitcase perhaps. But a hand? Confusion and the sinking feeling of hope settled in him as he felt the familiar tug back towards her. He glanced over his shoulder, wishing to hear her words of forgiveness, or even the change of subject so that they could put the whole horrible situation behind them… but he heard neither, instead finding himself drawn back to her. Even filled with rage, even devastated, he didn’t think twice in reclaiming his place over her. Quietly and carefully he found his hand prying her fingers from his arm, cherishing her skin beneath his as he laced his fingers through hers and pinned them back to the bed. He held her firm and matched her move by move, a silent war. His lips remained gentle against her own, but gestures poured his aggression, tension, and unsettled rage. The man chose to always in control. He chose to never lose his wits and never put his guard down for reasons such as this; moments in which the potential for disappointment was too great. He didn’t know what laid in the future, if she would choose to stay, nor if there would anything left of them to salvage, but he wasn’t going to give her up without a fight – even if it was she he had to battle to do so. For he knew, if she left, he’d have nothing. Regardless of his luxury vehicles, suits, or his vast arrange of ties; his perfectly composed life that would remain the same, or the fact that eventually he’d throw aside his emotional connections. There were several thousands of men that probably envied him but even his most treasured belongings couldn’t compare to her, someone who, unfortunately, could never be possessed. As of this day he needed stake his claim before he no longer had the chance. If she wasn’t convinced this night, then he would try again, and then once again after that if he must. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers as her desperate voice clawed its way into his skull, manipulating and persuading him to do exactly as he wished not to – to get further attached. Nonetheless the world began to fade around him, the walls they’d built beginning to crumble with each of her tears as she begged him, still pleading for reassurance. The man pushed his lips to hers, tasting of nothing but promise; for them and their future….the one that she was throwing away. He could be the foundation, the rock she needed but she was slipping away with each passing moment, even though the physical gap between them diminished. He leaned onto her, further closing the distance between them, though shortly after he pulled his lips away to watch her. His steely gaze quickly became swept up in the woman’s blue irises and then much to his shock, noticed the tears that littered her features. He silently wiped them away with the side of his thumb cast gingerly over her cheek. Don’t cry. He wanted to murmur against her dampened skin; wanting to envelope her within his warmth and ease the pain… pain that he knew he’d caused. But he couldn’t erase it, as he was the one that caused it. All he could do is serve as a distraction for her, and hope for her to change her mind. Or was this all for himself, so that he could attempt to convince himself that the feelings were all a hoax? Something within his gut assured him it was much too late for that, however. Feeling her beneath him gave him hope, even if just an inkling of the feeling, and he wanted to cling to that for as long as she’d allow it. He released a breath of frustration against her tender skin as his lips left a trail along her feminine jaw. “Just stay with me.” He insisted, and although spoken as a proposition the man’s fingers grew tighter against her own, spinning her deeper into his web as if she never really had a choice to begin with. He then fell prey to anticipation with the woman pinned beneath him and began pulling at her clothing, toying with the hem of her shirt caressing the soft skin beneath it. It seemed as though, for the briefest of seconds, that things had gone back to normal… until his eyes opened, and the blur of the suitcase danced in his peripheral vision. Fury flashed in his eyes and he dove back to her neck. He wouldn’t, no, couldn’t give her the power this night but he would certainly give her all she desired. In the chance that this could be his last shot he had to make it count; had to prove to her that her doubts about him were all but figments of her imagination. She was afraid, and seemingly hesitant about something for the first time since he’d known her… and he wanted to be the one to comfort her in her time of need, even if it would be the first, and last time he got the chance. |
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Cassia Alia Macario
Fable
Posts: 36
200x300 avatar: http://i61.tinypic.com/mtxcup.jpg
App: http://free-rein.boards.net/post/1073/thread
Plot: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/229/plot-thickens-insights-plotter
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Post by Cassia Alia Macario on Aug 28, 2015 4:18:47 GMT
The less I give the more I get back Your hands can heal, your hands can bruise I don't love you, but I always will “ "Stay With Me," he said and everything within her wanted to succumb to those words, those wishes. He met her move for move and she felt her heart swell with such strong emotions, that she knew right then and there that her fate was sealed and that terrified her more than anything in the world. She couldn't be dependent on anyone or anything, for that was to invite in weakness, heartache. She couldn't afford to be weak, not in her lifestyle, but she could allow just this... just this brief moment of weakness..of vulnerability. She let herself surrender to him. His body dominating hers, her hands pinned above her head as he tasted her skin. She shivered despite herself and the heated air between them. She wasn't cold. She was scared. This need to surrender so long and buried was coming to the surface as he took her and for once she didn't fight, but she just felt it. She felt the things that were unspoken. His need for her and she showed him her's for him. She felt the unsettling quiet of the calm. She was safe in his hands, for this moment, for this time and it was initially intimidating, but then liberating. She shut off her mind and just began to feel - and she felt everything. She felt her trust of him. She felt cherished as he began to worship her body, staking a possessive claim on her and she didn't challenge it. She welcomed it. For once in her life, the walls were truly down. She didn't have to connive or plot or hold herself back, but she gave him everything.Everything she couldn't say to his simple plea to stay. She let her lips be devoured by his, reassuring them both that she was there, that she was his. She encouraged his wandering hands and gasped her appreciation as all barriers were removed. A simple rip of her shirt and she was bare before him and at his mercy, but this time she wasn't running or playing coy. Need burned in her eyes as she returned the favor and sighed in relief with the skin to skin contact. He touched her skin and burned her soul and though she knew she shouldn't be encouraging this eventual emotional suicide, she found she didn't give a damn and there was only raw need. Two worlds collided as they consumed one another. One in aggressive assertion and another finally finding freedom in surrender. *********** She laid in his arms as night fell. A small, sad smile rested on her face as she felt his breath, steady and true at the nape of her neck. His front was pressed to her back, his arm curved around her waist, even in his sleep, scared that she would vanish in a blink. He was right to be concerned. Her fingers trailed lazily over his arm, back and forth, enjoying the difference in their skin, trying to focus on that rather than the thoughts that were trying to crash in and consume her, but it was a mild distraction at best. Eventually reality had to set in. She'd lingered for as long as she dared. She eyed the suitcase across the room, packed and ready, a silent reminder of what was to come, of what had to be done. She felt her breath catch in her throat, but she forced it out. Now was not the time to lose courage. She took his arm from around her waist as she slid out from the protection and warmth of his body. Everything within her screamed in protest, to just go back, to just stay in the moment of peace and rest they had created here, but her mind was ruthless and relentless in logic. To linger and stay would only open the door to heartbreak...then why did it feel like her heart was breaking now? Her bare feet hit the cold floor and with it the true gravity of her situation. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared blankly at the wall, fighting the urge to turn around and look at the sleeping man. His arms tightened around the pillow she'd slid down into her place as she stood and padded silently across the room. She walked into his closest, fingers trailing over his expensive suits and clothes as she looked about. A tender smile touched her face as she spotted the dress shirt he'd first worn after their first night. Her dying heart thumped a beat at the memory as she slid the shirt off the hanger and wrapped it around her frame. She slid her arms into the sleeve and buttoned it. It was like a dress on her, but she didn't care. Her hands were lost in the cuffs, but it only aided her as she lifted her hands up to her nose and inhaled. The scent of him alone calmed her inner turmoil - he had that effect on her. So why was she leaving? - the small voice whispered, but she knew the voice of hope and she knew better than to trust it. With tears pricking in her eyes, she stilled and willed them to dissipate. She'd lingered too long. She stalked out of the closet wearing only his shirt as she looked about the room. Her stilettos were about the room. That brought a smile to her face and she decided since she was taking something of his, she could leave him something of hers. Who knows...maybe he'll return them..and then... She shut that thought process down. She had to pull hope out at the root and that meant removing herself entirely from his presence...She'd melt at his touch and come crawling back if he were to pursue her. She'd have to hideout. She had to stay strong. She couldn't be weak...she couldn't be hurt. To love him would be her undoing, but to leave him...that she could survive. She moved to the door and grabbed her case without a sound, clothed only in his shirt. She paused at the door, toeing the threshold. Her heart pulled her back to the man sleeping, but her guards held her immobile. She'd give her heart one final look and then she was gone. She turned to stare at the man slumbering in his bed. His face much more relaxed and vulnerable in his sleep and the pain threatened to slay her as she stood. She shook with the effort, but she didn't move. She wondered how quick it would take for him to get over her. To take another lover. It hurt to even think it and yet as she turned to go, she found she truly wished him the best. Is that what love was? The willingness to let go, if only to see them happy? She was too emotionally bound, too complicated to bring Cole what he needed, even if she knew deep down that he was hers. She wouldn't do that to him. Make his life a mess, a frustration...that's what she told herself anyways. She stepped out the bedroom door and turned one last time, a whisper on her lips so low, nothing but her bleeding heart would hear. "I think I love you Cole and that's why I have to go. Be safe. Be strong and don't come after me..."And with that she slipped down the stairs and out the door, tears finally streaming down her face as she disappeared and blended into the night. ” notes and they're finished. ;-;
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