Member-only story
Captured Like a Moth to Flame
Live, love, learn.
I can feel the tension in your limbs as I run my hands along your skin. There’s no give, no pull to my push, and I can tell right away that you’re lost in some labyrinth in your mind. Only when I press along your shoulder blades do you make a sound so soft I would miss it if I weren’t listening intently to your every cue.
“Do you want to stop?” I ask, trying to keep the hesitation from my voice because that might scare you away even more. You tilt your head back ever so slightly to lock me with your sycamore eyes. At moments like these, how I wish I could pluck the thoughts right from your head as if they were leaves upon a tree. Your gazes hides so much — a curtain hiding the woman behind the magic and mystery.
You sigh, and even that one sound does strange things to my stomach. You make me squirm so much, and you don’t even realize it. I’m tied on the end of your string. It’s been that way for a while, but you still stay blissfully unaware. What is it like to live in a world where your own worst enemy is the one staring back at you from the mirror’s glass surface?
“I’m fine,” you say. “Just — just trying to get used to it, you know? I’ve never let anyone close like this before.”
And a part of me breaks for you. Who hurt you? I might ask any other partner. Who…
