Date: Thu, 27 Jun 2002 11:32:19 -0400 From: Stabbing Westward Junkie Subject: Gothic Transfixion - Chapter Three [ Before I start this chapter, I'd like to thank all the people that took the time out of their lives to e-mail me with regards to the other chapters. Special thanks to Kip. Unfortunately, this chapter's got nothing sexual in it either.. I'm sorry! The next one will for SURE, so never fear. - winks - I'm just a sucker for character development. Hope you like this chapter.. it's all about the heart. ] "Textbooks to page 66, please." I sigh soundlessly as the teacher, Mr. Koffmann, drones out this devastatingly tedious command, and reluctantly open my textbook to the required page. I stare malevolently at the book: I hate this damn thing. It's heavy, ugly in its rotten pumpkin colour, and even worse with its 'engaging' picture on the front that is supposed to get me instantly interested in the wild world of Law. I've managed to spruce it up a little and redeem its sorry ass somewhat, however. All over the inside covers is scrawled song lyrics and evil pictures; my favorite one being a sketch of Johnny from the comic book Squee! with the song "When You're Evil" by Voltaire done in dripping bloody letters all around him. The page we're looking at now is some psychobabble about Russian government, or the lack thereof. I instantly feel my mind turn to mush as I stare at the bland, boring text, and so I lift my gaze to look around as the teacher reads the required passage to us. Everyone has their heads bowed over their books; a few people in the back have their books propped up on their desks and are sleeping behind the convenient curtain the books provide. But I can't do this as I sit fairly close to the front, and for some reason, Mr. Koffmann likes to pick on me when I'm paying the least amount of attention. I keep looking, and my gaze is, as always, dragged to Josh. He is sitting motionlessly at his desk, leaning against the back of his chair with his legs sprawled out as comfortably as he can get them under the tiny, confining table legs. I sigh again while I surreptitiously watch him, staring with an aching heart at the profile of his face, my gaze falling like longing rain down the smooth perfection of his skin, the sensual satin of his lips, the absolute flawless beauty of his features. I can feel my teeth sink painfully into my bottom lip as I linger on his eyes, watching the way the luminous green gaze follows the words in his textbook along with the teacher, seeing the way the emerald colour interacts and dances with the obsidian fringe of his eyelashes, creating a riot of black and bright green that does nothing but inspire feelings of complete humility and desire in my heart. He has barely spoken to me since that day in his car; if he does speak, it's only to answer the tremulous questions I pose him, or to say "hi" or "bye" respectively. When we find ourselves alone, he is always silent, never looks at me, and as soon as he can either get away or find someone to talk to, he pursues it with straining eagerness. So I've stopped showing up at lunch, and even though Madison looks hurt every time she asks me why, I can't bring myself to go or tell her. It's only been two that I've missed, anyway... the whole mishap happened on Monday. Law class has become hell since Josh sits in front of me, I can't help but look at him as I'm doing now, and he seems to get even more beautiful and sexy with every passing moment. It's a strange kind of torture, but I deserve it.. I obviously made him feel horrible. I should feel thankful he hasn't beaten the shit out of me or told everyone what I'd done. But I can't help but feel that maybe those other two alternatives would be much better than this.. this horrible silence and jagged awkwardness that makes being around him so much harder than usual. I'd rather him scream at me and punch me senseless instead of avoiding me and not letting me know how much I'd embarrassed him. As the teacher reads, he lifts those poetic hands of his and slowly pulls them through his hair, a look of complete boredom suffusing his features. I watch as his hair trickles through his fingers and I instantly feel jealous: why can't they be my hands? The soft walnut and caramel strands fall back onto his shoulders with a spice-scented decent that wafts back to me almost instantly, and I breathe it in greedily, my eyes drifting closed as I do so, telling myself that I have now captured a piece of him, and if I breathe deeply enough, I will trap it in my lungs forever, and his essence will ride through my blood, take me over completely. And in this sense, I will never lose him. He will be mine forever. "So now you know how the State Duma's powers can influence what the President does in the Kremlin." I blink; Mr. Koffmann's voice has interrupted my reverie and makes me lose my train of thought. I open my eyes unwillingly as I feel the previous emotion leave me, and instantly find myself under the emerald-eyed inspection of Josh. I don't know how long he has been watching me, but as our gazes fasten, I can feel my cheeks instantaneously redden with the thought that he might have seen me staring at him. He looks away quickly, a strange look upon his face, one that I cannot place but makes me cringe inwardly. His hair slips off his shoulder as he moves, and it falls to caress his cheek, hiding him from my ashamed eyes. He does not bother to move it, his head bowing further as he sits up, his arms resting on the desk and his head resting upon them. "Christ," I whisper, feeling pointless but overpowering rage tumult its shrieking fury throughout my body. 'Fucking stupid, Silver." I tell myself, angrily stabbing at my textbook with my pen, my teeth clenching. 'He hates you, you asshole. And now he's caught you staring at him like a goddamned stalker.' Despair shakes my heart: Oh, how I WISH I could just let him go! I wish I could forget him, I wish I could stop my heart from bleeding whenever I see him, I wish I could stop wanting to fuck him til he passes out, I wish I didn't have to resort to jacking off in the shower when the hot water sears across my skin like long fingernails painted purple. I wish I didn't have an unstoppable hard-on whenever I am I around him, and I fucking wish that whatever evil force has put me in his path would have some pity and take me away, or reverse time and let me go a different way. "Now. I want you to pair up and discuss what we have just read, and come up with a few points concerning how the United States government differentiates from the Russian one, and why the United States system has worked better and for longer, even though the Russian system is based solely, if not copied in places, from the American one." I stare at Mr. Koffmann's enthusiastic face with something akin to utter disgust filling my eyes; I fight the urge to get up and walk out. I sigh softly. Pair up? Isn't this shit for ELEMENTARY school? Does anyone care about this boring stuff anyway? I watch as the students around me groan quietly and stir in their seats rustily, looking to each other warily, some exchanging weary glances and rolling their eyes. No, it is quite obvious that I'm not the only uninterested person in here. Mr. Koffmann holds up his hands, and gazes at us critically for a moment. "Wait. I will pair you up, because I know teenagers: friends will use it as an excuse to talk about other friends and we'll never get anything done." The groans get louder, and I see Josh shake his head slowly, his fingers clenching where they have come to rest in his hair. Mr. Koffmann begins to walk around, pointing at people and pairing them up. I wait silently, part of me dreading like hell that I'll somehow end up with Josh, but the obsessed slut in me praying to God that I will. "Joshua.. you're with.." Mr. Koffmann says slowly, looking around as he stands by Josh's desk, lingering upon blank faces. I see Josh wince slightly as his full name is used: he hates it. He never explained why. Just another reason to hate this teacher, I think to myself, waiting. I watch as Mr. Koffmann's indistinguishable eyes lock upon me for a moment, and half my heart surges, pleading silently with him to say my name. But his eyes fall away from me and move onto the next row, and I sigh inaudibly. Josh doesn't move or look up at the teacher, seemingly to have resigned himself to his fate, not caring what it is. "Cassie..?" Mr. Koffmann says questioningly, musing to himself. "No, no. I want you with Devon.. you'll keep his attention in check." The class titters, and I see Josh grin slightly. "Silver." I look up wildly, fear and desire making my body feel tense and empty at the same time. Mr. Koffmann watches me a moment, and nods decisively. "Go sit with Joshua and get started, please. Page 78." I nod mutely after a moment's silent staring, and pick up my notebook. I approach Josh's desk slowly, feeling nauseous as I see him look up at me for a moment, then glance away, shifting his desk slightly to attach to the one beside it so we can share textbooks. "Thanks," I mutter to him: my first communication with him in a week! "No problem," he says quietly in return, not looking at me as he flips through his textbook to get to the instructed page. I hear the murmuring of people around me as they start discussing the work as I slip into the desk beside him, and so I look intently to the opened page, skimming across the words quickly, beginning to jot down some of the basics. He leans towards the book and begins to write as well, his graceful, slender letters pouring out onto the pristine paper as he goes, the ink glittering like liquid shadow. We are almost touching; the desks are very small and compact, so they don't leave much room for space. I can feel his presence painfully: am aware of every breath he takes, of how his hair catches the light and reflects it with stunning perfection, and how his eyes move over the page. "Were you listening to that shit at all?" He murmurs this suddenly, still intent upon his writing, his voice pitched low so the teacher doesn't hear him. I shake my head after a moment; aware of stupid I must have looked when he saw me with my eyes closed. "No," I say softly. "Too damn boring." And been staring at your beautiful face for the whole lesson... He grins a lopsided smile and laughs gently. Do I even need to explain how that sound affects me, especially now, when I have been expecting him to ignore me like the plague? My pen shakes as my hand freezes, and I can feel my heart relax slowly, like a rope loosening around a tender place. I go to sneak a hopeful glance at him for a second, but am kept there as I find him looking back at me. Again, that unreadable, odd expression is on his face, but I can't look away. He smiles slightly after a moment, and quickly looks back down to his notebook as Mr. Koffmann walks by and looks over our shoulders. "I know," he whispers softly, grinning wryly at the textbook as Mr. Koffmann moves away. "This is precisely why I've managed to fail this class twice. Russian politics.. God." I grin too, waves of pure, undistilled relief flooding my senses as I see him smile and speak easily. Maybe not so angry at me then..? Still need to be careful. "I can understand why. I'm probably going to fail with flying colours." He is silent for a bit, and then stops in his writing to look up at me. It is almost painful, his gaze. I wish that I didn't feel it so intensely, and that it didn't demand my full attention.. "Me too. So we'll end up in this shithole again together." I nod, trying not to think about wanting to keep taking this class over and over and failing it every time just be around him.. "By the time we'll be out, we'll both be old men dribbling creamed spinach down our chins babbling crazily about the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Ten Minute Warning System.." He laughs, nodding with a delighted grin. Then he falls quiet, his pen moving again, his face growing suddenly subdued and serious. He is silent for a while longer, then: "So we'll grow old together. Not so bad." His voice is as gentle and sexual as it ever is, but this time it seems unsure and unsteady, a thread of wildly shaking emotion making it strange, unbelievable music in my ears. "Time's up. Have a good night, I'll see you tomorrow. We'll finish this in the first half of the next class." I jump slightly as Mr. Koffmann's voice falls like shattered ice between us, and look up at Josh wonderingly as he stands slowly, picking up his books and rearranging them, readying to put them in his bag. I stand as well; grabbing my books and walking grudgingly back to my desk, looking back to him every few step. What did he mean by that? Am I just kidding myself? As always? Dropping my books in my backpack and zipping it up, I sling it onto my shoulders, pulling my hair out from under the straps as it gets caught. I look back to Josh just in time to see him bend over slightly, shoving his books into his bag. I stare as he moves, watching how his leather pants slowly move, tightening over his skin. His shirt moves up slightly, the navy blue silk sliding smoothly across his skin and giving me a perfect view of his lightly tanned lower back, not to mention his ass. 'Good God,' I think to myself dazedly as I watch, the perfect firmness of his ass pressing against the tight black material; the delicious roundness of it stirring unbidden thoughts in my mind, making me want to run forward and slip my hands around his waist and press my hips against those lovely cheeks.. My lips part slightly as I think this, my tongue slipping out to moisten my lips, my whole body beginning to tremble. 'Why are you so sexy?' I silently implore him, groaning inwardly as I feel my cock start to stiffen, insane desire shuddering down my body and soaking into my erection, my eyes locked upon his ass and slender hips. What would he do, I crazily ponder, if I grabbed him, turned him around, and bent him backwards over his desk? If I held him down, my fingernails digging into the underside of his wrists, and pressed myself on top of him? If I pushed his head back and bit the soft flesh of his throat as deeply as I could, sucking hard enough to leave a red mark there for at least a couple days? If I thrust my cock against him, not letting him move until I had my way with him? Until I screamed with an orgasm strong enough to drive every last vestige of come out of my balls and shot it all over his chest? Until he cried with the strength of his own, sobbing my name incoherently as his legs tightened around mine? "Are you okay?" Fuck. I blink, and snap myself out of my daydream to find Josh has turned around and is staring at me, his bag over his shoulders and his gaze questioning. I nod jerkily and turn around, stepping out of the classroom as quickly as I can, embarrassment and lust making me feel weak. I lean against the wall beside the door and try to catch my breath, sinking down into a crouch so that my violent hard-on isn't obvious to the people passing me by. Christ. Had he seen that? I don't think so, because he'd seemed genuinely concerned, but the fear shakes me through and through all the same. I can feel my cock throb against my pants with a pressure that makes me moan, images of his ass coming back again, making the muscles tighten in my chest and my erection to take on a painful edge. "Silver?" I look up quickly. It's Josh, and he is frowning. He kneels down beside me slowly, reaching out with one hand to touch my knee, where it rests gently. I try to smile into his concerned gaze, and wonder how I should explain. But words get the better of me as I look at him and watch the ever-changing vista of his eyes. Embarrassment makes me look down again; if I stand up, not only will Josh know what is 'wrong', but the whole school will too. Erections in near to skin-tight pants are not the subtlest things. "You don't seem okay," He says, his fingers lightly rubbing my knee, the feel of it nearly driving me wild: I can feel the soft touch of his energy sink into my skin and course down my leg, embedding itself in my groin where it starts to do irreparable damage. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut for a desperate moment and plead with my wayward body to stop reacting to him, and for my mind not to bring back those images of him bending over. At least, not for now. But his fingers keep rubbing insistently, and I curse silently. This isn't going to work.. something's got to distract me.. "Yeah," I mutter, nodding and dropping my gaze with a forced half-smile. "I'm fine. Just felt a little weird all of a sudden. I think I need to eat something." He is quiet, and my eyes snap shut again, trying to deal with his fingers caressing my skin. I don't want him to stop because the chances of him touching me are far to rare to pass up, but I can't seem to get my mind out of the gutter.. "You sure? You looked like you'd seen a ghost." He tightens his grip on my knee, and I can see out of my peripheral vision that he is trying to attract my gaze, his head tilting to the side slightly and his eyes dark and questioning. But I can't look up.. not when he's so close. Not when actual physical pain is resulting from the hard-on in my pants. "I'm fine," I say, in what I hope is a confident, reassuring tone. "I just need to get out of here." There is silence for a little longer, and I see him look down. I thank my lucky stars that my bag is in my lap. "'Kay. Do you want a ride home?" I shake my head; the last thing I want is to do is go in that car again. The place where I officially Fucked Things Up between Josh and I. "No," I whisper, without meaning to be so quiet. "I'll walk." "What?" He asks, and leans closer. "Sorry.. I didn't catch that." As he speaks, his hand slips forward a bit, his hand resting fully on my lower thigh. His thumb keeps rubbing gently, and I can't keep the shiver that runs through my whole body contained. I try to speak, but the words have turned to ashes in my mouth; all my attention is riveted upon his hand, watching how his purple fingernails slip across the material of my pants, how the warmth of his skin soaks into mine, and how unbelievably sensual the movements of his slender fingers are. He waits for me to answer, the silence almost tangible in the air. Then: "Josh, are you coming?" We both look up at the same time to see Madison, waiting expectantly nearby. She walks towards us, looking to me worriedly. "You okay, Silver?" I nod quickly, half-grateful for the distraction. "Yeah," I say, smiling at her. "Just felt a little sick, I guess. I'm okay now." Josh's hand slowly slips from my leg, the movement a caress in itself as it goes. I watch it leave, longing filling my heart with a wish to hold it there with my own hand, to keep it against me forever. The sudden interruption of Madison has managed to cool down my hard-on somewhat though, and so I don't feel entirely disappointed. He stands slowly, and after a moment I do too. Madison hugs us both, and then grins. "You guys have anywhere to be right now?" Josh and I glance at one another, then we both shake our heads. "No," he says, grinning back at her. "Why?" She claps her hands and giggles, taking both our arms and propelling us down the emptying hallway. "Good. Cause I've got water balloons. Ethan and I went out and bought them at lunch. Care to play a game?" Josh laughs, his eyes lighting up. "Excellent," he says in an evil tone, and we're out the door, on the front lawn of the school, where I see our group gathered, a bucket of water balloons at their feet. They all smile and wave us over; Andrea gives me a hug and a smile. I return the favour, and look to Madison expectantly. She winks at me, and then faces us. "Okay," she says, "Josh, Ethan, Andrea on one team, Silver, Jackie, Jen and myself on another. And don't bitch about how we have one more than you; you all know I can't throw worth shit." We all laugh and nod, and take up our places, grabbing the slippery balloons as we run. Then, chaos. I duck behind a tree as a red missile from Andrea's hand comes whistling my way, and toss one of mine at Ethan, where it explodes on his leg. I cheer madly and laugh as he charges at me, a playful growl ripping from his throat. "You bastard!" He exclaims with a grin, and then chases me halfway across the lawn whereupon he corners me and smacks two of his balloons into my chest, soaking me. I wipe the water out of my eyes, laughing, but he is gone before I can retaliate, defending Madison from Josh. I grin as I watch them; Josh circling Madison while Ethan hovers in front of her menacingly, waving a threatening balloon warningly. Madison cowers behind Ethan, giggling, pleading with Josh to have mercy. Josh is shaking his head with a sweet smile, tossing his balloon from one hand to the other, a devious look in his green eyes. "Nope," he says stridently, and then runs in for the kill. Slipping behind Ethan's lunge, he throws the balloon at Madison, it exploding on her shoulder and soaking her hair. She wails and laughs at the same time, and Ethan manages to get in front of him, taking the three balloons he has left and managing to soak Josh entirely as they hit him. Josh laughs wildly, not bothering to wipe the hair out of his eyes as he ducks and grabs another balloon, swinging it at Ethan. It hits Ethan square in the face, blinding him momentarily, and Josh is off and away, streaking across the lawn, his silk shirt clinging to him like a second skin. What a sight to behold, I think wistfully. "Silver!" Ethan gestures to me wildly as he sets off after Josh. "Come help me get this fucker!" I grin and run after him, both of us catching up with Josh as he runs out of places to go. We both tackle him down, him shaking with laughter the whole time, the musical sound filling the air with enchantment. We fall to the ground with a thud, Ethan grabbing Josh's arms and pinning them to his sides as we roll. I've got a hold of his chest, trying to stop him from shaking us off as we come to a dizzying stop. We're all laughing madly, too tired to move, and we lie there on the grass, Ethan hunched behind him, still holding his arms, and me lying beside Josh. We're all fighting for breath, still giggling, when Josh finds a new burst of energy and attempts to flip himself away from us and into a standing position. Ethan grabs at his arms unsuccessfully, pulled away by a sudden appearance of Madison who giggles and explodes another balloon in his face. I manage to stop Josh, however, by pinning his shoulders down and straddling him. This all happens in an instant, fueled only by the instinct to stop him from getting away. Before I realize what I've done, I'm sitting on Josh's waist, my legs on either side of him, and my fingers tight upon his shoulders. He stops moving and looks up at me with a grin, raising his arms slightly in a gesture of supplication. "You've got me," he says quietly, with a wink. I can hear Ethan and the others still going at it, so I stay where I am, assuming the game not over and not wanting him to get up for obvious reasons. I grin back at him, and begin to remove my grip on his shoulders when he tenses slightly, a touch of a smile curving the side of his sensual lips. "You might not want to do that," he says lightly, and my hands stop. "I might get away and soak you completely." I grin weakly, and tighten my grip on him again, staring down into his brilliant eyes. My hair hangs in dripping strands around my face, water streaking down my cheeks and falling onto his chest. I am silent for a moment, simply watching him. He regards me in return, just as silently, his eyes becoming the only thing that I can see. I feel him breathe under me, the motion of his chest raising and dropping me slightly with every inhalation. I can feel his muscles moving, and see the thudding of his heart under the saturated navy-blue of his shirt. He does not blink as he returns my gaze, and it seems as though the world has stopped. The sound of everyone else has faded away, leaving me only with this green-eyed apparition below me. I could kiss you, I tell him mentally, unable to look away. My heart thumps erratically, wild emotion making my hands and head feel weak. I could lean down right now and claim those lips for my own, I could run my hands through your wet hair and feel you arch your back under me as my hands start to undo your shirt.. "It wouldn't be such a humiliation," I hear myself say, "It would be worse for you cause I'd make you pay by drying me off." He stares at me for a moment, his eyes widening slightly and the green colour seeming to flare. But before I can start to feel the shame that begins to creep up my spine, his hands lift off the ground and grip my forearms slowly, his fingers gentle and almost hesitant. "Dry you off.." he repeats this slowly, his fingers slipping under the sleeves of my shirt, sliding across my skin slowly, electrifyingly. I watch him disbelievingly, staring into his burning eyes, and nod wordlessly, trying desperately not to moan as his hands move, my skin begging to be touched and then burning like fire after he does so. It's now or never, I can feel my mind scream, and I resign myself to its undeniable will. Now or never. If he hates me, then I'll burn in hell later. I feel his hands tighten around my arms and see his eyes start to slowly darken, the colour deepening but not growing less intense. He begins to pull on my arms, and I slowly follow his lead, my thoughts in a daze, my whole being seemingly propelled by my swelling heart. I keep leaning down towards him, our gazes locked burningly, neither of us daring to breathe as he pulls me closer. This is it, I tell myself hazily. I'm going to kiss him. And I think he wants me to. I move slowly closer and closer, and when I'm about ten inches away from his face, his eyes drift slowly closed, the dark fringe of his eyelashes coming to kiss upon his cheeks lightly. I feel a shiver course through his chest, and his hands clutch my arms even tighter as I keep closing the distance. I can feel tears begin to sting my eyes: finally after so long, I've got him where I want him, and it seems he wants to be here too. Disbelief assails my heart as I fully realize what I am about to do, but I refuse to let myself stop what I've dreamed about time and time again. I can feel his breath on my face again, and as I feel it, I close my eyes as well, my fingers slowly moving off his shoulders to slide up his neck and take his head into my hands gently. He shivers helplessly again and something like a strangled moan slips out between his lips as my fingers slide onto his cheeks. Now. I lower my head, feeling the warmth from his face touch my skin like sunlight, knowing without opening my eyes that I am less than three inches away from his lips, and that his head is slowly tilting up to meet mine. Then: laughter, and someone crashes into us. I jerk in shock, and my eyes fly open at the same time as Josh's. We stare at each other for a moment, and then look over to the wildly thrashing bodies beside us. Ethan, Andrea and Madison are piled in a heap; Jackie and Jen don't seem to be here anymore. They are all trying to hit each other with the remaining water balloons, laughing madly and seemingly oblivious to Josh and I, the girls pinning Ethan down. Madison falls against me as she is shoved off, and I am forced to take my hands away from Josh's face to catch her and keep my balance. Josh pulls his hands out from under my sleeves as I move my arms, leaving my skin to feel scorched, stripped. Madison is giggling, and she turns to look at me, breathless with laughter. "Thanks," she gasps, and looks to Josh. "Gonna help us soak Ethan?" I glance at Josh, not able to do so for long, for fear that my heart will break. The joyful tears that had stung my eyes previously turn bitter, threatening to disable me. He stares at his cousin mutely, his eyes looking almost black suddenly; the lime swirling to an eerie dark forest green. She sees this too, I know, because instantly her laughter dies and her face grows trepidatious. They stare silently at each other, Ethan and Andrea finally cluing in and ceasing their struggling, staring at us. "Get off me." Josh says, directing this icy statement to me while still holding Madison in his relentless gaze, his voice trembling and on the verge of breaking. Instantly I react, sliding off him and standing unsteadily, feeling hurt and disgrace stabbing through my chest, blinding me for a moment as my vision clouds with aqueous cold borne of regret and anguish. As soon as I stand, he stands as well, knocking Madison's hand away as she attempts to grab his arm. Without a word, he starts to walk swiftly away towards the parking lot, heading for his car. Madison stands slowly, staring stunned after Josh, pain crossing her dark eyes. "What the hell did I do..?" She asks tremulously, folding her arms over her chest. Andrea and Ethan stand and follow him with their eyes, having no answer for her. I stand apart from them as always, watching with a crumbling heart as he gets in his car and slams the door with a force that makes us all jump. Not looking back at us once, he starts it and slams it into reverse, backing out of his space quickly. Music floods loudly out of his open windows; I recognize Stabbing Westward's "You Complete Me". The volume doesn't seem to bother him as I can still hear it as he drives down the road and goes out of sight. The tears fall like liquid wax on my face, and I turn quickly. I hear Madison call my name, but I can't face her or any of them in this state. I start to run across the lawn, heading home with tears blurring my eyes, Stabbing Westward filling my head like a vicious poison. I've never fully been able to understand why they've touched and influenced my life so much until now. They've loved and lost. They've loved to no avail. Somehow, they've managed to touch and become the nerve of heart's angst, Christopher Hall's voice becoming the epitome of all unrequited love. 'I am lost in the darkness Between two worlds And here I'm struggling You're the light that I've been seeking Because my whole life there's been something missing Only you Can make me whole Just one touch You complete me Rescue me from this black hole That's sucked me in And left me dying You're the truth that I've been seeking Because my whole life I've been lying Only you Can make me whole Just one touch You complete me God I pray You find me worthy Of the right to stand beside you And I feel truth And I feel passion Of the right to sleep beside you Only you Can make me whole Just one touch You complete me Just one touch..' * * * * It's Friday. I'm in my room, it's about six o'clock: Josh is supposed to pick me up at seven. But I seriously don't expect he's going to, and I totally understand if he doesn't. I sigh softly as I play my guitar, feeling more depressed than I think I've ever felt. Even worse than when my ex decided he was straight and I found that out by finding him in MY bed with one of my female friends. Madison dragged me to lunch today and so I had to sit there the entire time and watch Josh; the both of us trading glances and then looking hotly away when we find the other returning the glances. He walked me to my class after lunch, but we didn't say much, the conversation stumbling and uncomfortable. At least he and Madison don't seem to have suffered from the tension on the lawn, so maybe one blessing came out of this sordid mess. The scene on the lawn has been running through my head non-stop. I can't stop thinking about how he had pulled me closer to him, and how he'd shivered and moaned as I'd leaned down to kiss him. Did he realize what I had been planning on doing? And if so, what did it mean? This has been bothering me for quite some time now, this ambiguous question of Josh's preference between girls and guys. There are things that make me wildly hope, like the lawn, or when he said way back that he didn't mind if I fell on him, but then other things like his casual flirting with the girls he hangs around with, and his total blindness to Ethan's quite blatant passes at him make me lose hope. That's another reason I haven't been hanging around them; I can't stand to see Ethan's adoring, crystal-blue eyes locked on Josh every second of every minute, or see him touch Josh as often as he can. You could argue that maybe this is because he reminds me much of myself, but I still get pissed and jealous either way. I'm playing his song. It always manages to sneak into the strings when I'm not paying attention, and I'm singing the lyrics before I can stop myself, and once I start singing that song, I can't stop, no matter how much I want to. I'm playing it more softly than usual, the light, airy melodies dancing mournfully around each other. As I start to sing, my eyes close, and I'm taken to that place where my fingers make the music without any intervention from my mind; my spirit taking over. My voice is passable; I've been told it is pleasant, but too soft. I could never sing in a band. I sigh as I begin to reach the chorus, the sigh brought about by a sudden vision of his eyes. I can see them as I close my own, their deep emerald pouring into me, the way they looked just before my hand had reached into his hair in the car, before his eyes had closed at my touch on the lawn, before I went and fucked things up just like I always do. I open my mouth to sing again, when I'm interrupted by a voice. "You're really good." I jump slightly in surprise, my fingers falling away from the guitar, cutting the melody short. I turn around quickly, about to snap at whomever it is, thinking it one of my mother's insipid boyfriends, when I see Josh, leaning against my door quietly, his hands behind his back. I didn't hear the door open or close, so I don't know how long he's been standing there. But all those thoughts get swept away as I take him in. Josh dressed up. How to explain it? His hair has tiny braids threading through it, the ends tied with silver bands that catch the light in a crazy way. His shirt is black and fishnet, overlaid with a bright red silk shirt; I can see the center of chest where it hangs open. I try not to stare, but I can see some of his abs; they're taut and perfect, not too hard and formed. His pants are the glorious PVC again, but this time decorated with silver chain crisscrossing his waist, a glorious belt of steel that makes my fingers feel like they've melted off. I can't help it: "And you look GREAT.." I blush and look down, but he laughs softly: God, it seems so long since I last heard that beautiful sound! It's only been a couple of days.. but still. He starts to walk slowly towards me, approaching my bed. "Thanks, so do you.." he says quietly. I smile helplessly, still not able to look up at him, though. I'm dressed not so impressively as him: simply clad in a black, semi see-through shirt and the usual black pants. "Your mom let me in.. I'm sorry I didn't knock, but I heard you playing and didn't want to disrupt you. You play beautifully." I shrug embarrassedly, my fingers nervously playing with the strings. "No, not really. Just fucking around." He sits slowly on the edge of the bed and regards me silently for a moment, the burning intensity of his eyes seeming to burn twin holes in my head. "Didn't sound like fucking around to me. Don't stop?" I laugh nervously once more, not wanting to say anything for fear of pissing him off, or driving him away again. I don't know why he's here, or why he's so at ease all of sudden, but I don't want to fuck it up.. "It's honestly not that good..you'll hear better at the club." He's quiet for a bit, and then the bed moves slightly as he moves a little closer. "Please?" I breathe in deeply, and look up, straight into his eyes. He is watching me silently, but this time does not look away like he has for the past little while: he moves closer so that he is sitting beside me, drawing his legs up under him and resting his arms on his lap. "Okay," I sigh warningly. I can't say no. "But like I said, I'm not very good. What would you like to hear?" He chuckles softly, and I almost faint at the nearness of it, the pure sexual beauty of it. "I'll be the judge of that. And, what was that you were just playing, when I walked in? It sounded very good.." I flush deeply and have to duck my head as I carefully answer, my fingers moving across the strings apprehensively. "Something I wrote." His song, of course.. He grins delightedly; I can see this out of the corner of my eye. Oh, how I've missed his gentle, mysterious presence! "I'd like to hear that, then.. if that's okay. Does it have a name?" I begin to play it softly, nodding slightly, not trusting myself to look at him as I tell him the name of the song I've written for him; the song that I play every night as I wish upon the stars outside my window to make his heart mine. "Yes. It's called 'Chartreuse Desire'." Chartreuse, if you haven't guessed already, is named after his eyes. Desire I think is self-explanatory. He nods slowly after a moment, and I begin to play timidly, singing the words softly. "Something fearless, about your eyes... Something careless, about your smile... Something fragile when you hold your breath... And when you move; you move right through me... Fingertips travelling across my skin I can feel you, Feel the flood begin... Fingertips travelling across my skin I need you Feel the dance begin... Something dangerous, about your ways Something beautiful, about your hands Something endless when you dance And when you look at me, you look right through me..." He sits quietly, not moving, through the whole song, and as it dwindles to a slow, meandering stop, I manage to look up at him. He is staring at the guitar, watching my fingers move across the frets. The look on his face is somewhat hidden by the angle his head is tilted to, but the aura of him is very still and almost.. humble? "That... was beautiful, Silver..." His voice is very quiet but at the same time very loud, filling my head with endless echoes of it, making my body tense slightly. I shake my head, flustered, and shrug, putting my guitar back in its case slowly. The blush on my cheeks only annoys me, and therefore intensifies, and I curse inwardly. "Thanks...its subject is the reason it's any good." Before he can say anything to that, however, a volley of honks on his car horn outside floats through my half open window. Josh sighs slightly and after a moment, stands. "We'd better go... Madison's a little anxious to get dancing. Attract some hot guys." He grins as he says this, and I stand as well, stretching slightly. I giggle as we leave my room, feeling much more at ease and curiously exhilarated now that we're on talking basis again and that I've played my song for him, not mattering that he didn't know it was for him. "I'm sure she'll have no problem. And besides, you and Ethan are there, so you'll both help reel in the guys, and you can pass yours off to Madison. At least, that's what she tells me... when you two go out, you manage to attract more in five minutes than she can the entire night!" I say this lightly, but a slight thread of jealousy at the thought of other guys hitting on Josh manages to weave its way in. He laughs as we go down the stairs, and shrugs mischievously. "Maybe I'll want the guys I attract! Deprive Madison of the pleasure." I hold open the door for him as we leave, and as he passes me, I shake my head slightly. Following him with wistful eyes, I sigh lightly, walking behind him. We get to the car in time to see Madison get out of the passenger's side. I stop in my tracks as I see her, my mouth falling open slightly. She laughs in trilling delight as she sees my reaction, and runs over to give me a giggling hug. "Jesus, Madison... you look.... GREAT!" I sputter, hugging her carefully; fearful I might end up spoiling her ensemble. She giggles and grins, steps back and twirls in the driveway for us. She is wearing a simple black dress that is quite short, and shows off her fantastic legs beautifully. She has on a pair of those crazy high heels that have long, long straps that wind up her legs, stopping just under her knees. Her hair, normally bouncy and curly, lies straight around her face, sparkling with some kind of glitter stuff, and she smells like a delicately seasoned fruit desert. Josh grins at me and winks, applauding her. "Doesn't she?" He asks, and goes to muss up her hair, resulting in a plaintive wail and a pout from her. He laughs, and gets in the car. I walk around with Madison and open the door for her, holding it as she approaches. But she opens the back door instead and winks at me, whispering softly. "Favourites get in front," and with another wink, she gets in, slamming the door behind her. I blink, and stare at the air that she'd just occupied, wonderingly pondering that remark. But then I feel a tug on the side of my pants and look down to see Josh's smiling face. "Getting in, or do we leave you here?" I blink again and grin back, seating myself slowly; Madison's words echoing through my head. But then the car starts, the music turns on, and we drive away, leaving me nothing to do but sing along with them, watching Madison's sparkling eyes upon mine in the rear-view mirror the whole way. * * * * "So," Josh says, leaning close to me as the music thumps. "What do you think? Does she need help?" He's referring to Madison, grinningly pointing her out amongst the dancing crowd. We're leaning against the bar, too young to drink, unfortunately, a fact of lamentable concern to Josh. I laugh as I see her: surrounded with a multitude of adorning guys, all of them trying to win her over with sexy dance moves or promises of alcohol, even though she is under age. I hear her laughter resound over the music as a handsome, dark-haired guy with flashing eyes leans close to her and whispers something, and I grin as I look to Josh. "Nope, she seems to be just fine. Ethan does, too..." He looks over with a wry smile as Ethan surges past us, his hands wrapped around some guy's bare, slick torso, their foreheads touching and eyes sparkling at one another as they move. "Yeah, he's set for the night," he murmurs, stretching slightly and pushing himself off the counter, looking around for a moment before looking back to me. I watch as a couple of guys on the floor stare at Josh like they have all night so far, waiting for him to leave the bar and dance. I wonder if he is aware of them, but I think he probably is as his smile grows wry once more, and his green eyes to flash. "You see them too, huh? They're here every time I come; it's kind of eerie." I nod and cast them a calculating gaze for a moment. "You gonna go make their day and dance?" I look to my handsome friend questioningly, wanting nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and look smugly to those other guys, officially labeling Josh as 'off-limits' to them. But then again, I kind of want to see him dance, see if he WILL dance with them, and have my suspicions and desperate hopes confirmed. He shrugs and lifts a hand to push it through his hair, his beautiful, flawless features taking on a contemplative air as he stares at me. I return the gaze only because, as always, I cannot look away when under the force of those blazing green eyes. "Depends," he says. "I don't want to leave you here, bored shitless..." I shrug nonchalantly, and grin slightly. "I'm sure I'll find someone. If not, I'll watch you guys make fools of yourselves." I wink at him as I say this last part, and his smile grows wide, his eyes narrowing playfully as he reaches for my arm and yanks me forward. "That's it. You're coming with me. I'm not letting you watch me make a fool of myself. You're going to make one of yourself too, if I have to MAKE you." "But I don't have anyone to dance with!" I protest half-sincerely, willingly following Josh's lead out onto the floor. He shrugs and looks back at me with a winning smile, his eyes looking insanely cool under the swirling club lights. "That's okay. You can dance with me if you want until you find someone. I'm sure that won't take long." A rage of joy explodes in my chest as he pulls me after him, searching for a suitable place to dance. Dance! Josh pretty much asking me to dance with him! I can't wipe the exhilarated grin off my face, but it really doesn't seem to matter here, surrounded by all these dancing, beautiful people. I can feel the music kicking in; like a drug making my head feel like it's floating, and a slow energy of fire begins to build in my chest, spreading outwards through my whole body until every limb is screaming at me to move, the music seeming to pour itself into me. The crowd is crazily thick, but Josh pulls us expertly through the people, seemingly oblivious to the wondering, desiring gazes of men and women both shot his way. Then I feel his fingers on my arm tighten, and he's looking over his shoulder at me, his hair hanging in feather-soft strands across his face, his smile tantalizingly erotic. I fight the burning urge to grab and kiss him right then and there as he speaks, my heart soaring. "Like the music?" He yells over the noise. I nod with a wide grin, and he laughs, eyes shimmering with light enough to rival the stars that I know are shining above us right now. Then I feel his hand sliding down my arm to intercept mine, our fingers entwining slowly. I have to stop moving as I feel this, his fingers sending shoots of energy shivering up my arm. He stops moving as well and faces me slowly, his eyes locking directly upon mine with the piercing clarity of a hawk. I look down to our hands and slowly tighten my grip; entranced and mesmerized by the way our hands look, holding each other's. "Perfect," I think dreamily, simply staring and feeling Josh's incredible warmth flood my skin. When Josh squeezes my hand and I look up into his eyes, it is then with a rush of stabbing mortification that I realize I'd spoken my thought aloud AND he'd heard me do so. "Shit," I mutter angrily, and turn to leave, my fingers pulling away from his. Obviously I can't seem to remember to keep my mouth shut. I suddenly feel like willingly crawling into a meat grinder. 'You are such an IDIOT, Silver...right after he starts talking to you again, you fuck it up by doing the exact same shit that got you screwed in the first place!' I tell myself bitterly, trying to get as far away from Josh as possible, cheeks burning an insistent crimson. But a gentle yet firm hold on my hand refuses to let me go anywhere, and I reluctantly look back. He doesn't say anything but simply trains that undeniable gaze on me, and begins to pull me closer. His hand reaches out to take my other hand, his touch gentle and demanding nothing, but his eyes searing me with their emerald oblivion. His expression is totally intense, and my hands grip his tightly as he pulls me towards him, breath not daring to find my lungs, for fear that if I do ANYTHING, I'll break this incredible spell somehow. Hope fills my wildly beating heart as I stare at him. His left hand lets go of my right one slowly, and begins to lift and encircle my waist when a loud shout interrupts us. "JOSH!!" Our hands tear away from each other as if electrocuted, and I snap my smoldering gaze to find a man approaching, waving happily to Josh. I see Josh lift his hands to rake through his hair slowly, his expression anything but welcoming. The intruder doesn't seem to notice Josh's black look, however, coming up and slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, gorgeous!" The man shouts, grinning at Josh. Then he looks to me and nods, smiling, his large, uneven features twisted into a seemingly permanent expression of joviality. I smile half-heartedly back. "Hey, Eric," Josh says quietly, his gaze downcast. Eric grins again and jerks a questioning thumb at me. "Your date?" Josh and I look up instantly in surprise, exchanging startled expressions for a moment before we look away again and before either of us can answer, Eric continues, not bothering to wait. "You remember Shelly and them?" Josh nods, and Eric whoops. "They're all here and want to say hi to ya. The new girls are practically itchin' to meet ya!" Again before Josh can answer, Eric is pulling him away. I watch them go dejectedly, my hands shaking as I suddenly want to punch Eric in the face for ruining what was possibly going to be the most incredible moment of my life to date. Josh glances back, and our eyes find each other's for a moment, my own widening as I see the look of complete longing that resides in the green depths of his. I stare mutely after him, disbelieving desperation making my chest hurt and my mouth to fall slack. It as if the world is pushed aside for the moment, my every sense trained upon the retreating figure of my heart's desire. My eyes watch the unconscious grace with which he moves, the beauty of the dark hair tumbling down his slender back being the last thing known to me before the gyrating crowd swallows him. With every step he takes, it is like I can physically feel him moving farther away from me, and the pain lodges thickly in my chest. "What just happened there?" A feminine voice in my ear makes me jump, and I gasp in relief as I see Madison's dark eyes watching me questioningly. "Some guy named Eric wanted Josh to go and meet some of his friends, I think." I say this slowly, my eyes locked wonderingly onto where I saw him disappear. "No," she replied after a moment, leaning closer. "I meant between you and Josh." I sigh softly as her voice dies away, looking to her sorrowfully, biting my lip. No point in hiding anything now, I think to myself dejectedly. It's probably very obvious to her now how I feel about him, and she's not so immature that she can't deal with it. Besides, if there's anyone around here I can trust, other than Josh, it's her. "I don't know," I admit unhappily, looking down at my fidgeting fingers. "I really don't." She watches me for a moment, and then grabs my hand, pulling me towards a shadowed corner. Once we get there, she turns and faces me, eyes solemn and gentle. "I'm going to go out on a limb here... into the realm that is officially None Of My Business... and assume that you are gay, or bi?" She says this calmly, tenderly, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine reassuringly. I nod, and laugh humorlessly, raking my fingers over my face. "That obvious, huh?" She laughs softly and shakes her head. "No... but when it comes to Josh, emotions are not very easily hidden. I grew up with that guy... and I know the effect he has on people. He's gotten himself into serious trouble before from guys that aren't gay or bi that suddenly find themselves attracted to him and decide to take out their frustrations out in violence." I nod bitterly, and look over my shoulder to where I last saw him go. "I know the feeling of having people freak out on you for the actions of their hearts..." She gazes at me shrewdly, and nods after a moment. "I bet you do. You are very beautiful, Silver." I blink dumbly at her for a moment, a blush searing my cheeks as I fumble for words. But she laughs her lilting laugh and squeezes my hand again. "Don't worry... I'm not trying to hit on you. I'm just stating the facts that everyone knows." She winks and I nod, smiling. "But what about Josh?" I ask suddenly, the desire in my heart to know raging forth, dashing aside any policies about politeness. I NEED to know. I try not to let her see how uncomfortable and anxious the question makes me, looking anywhere else but at her. Silence, and then: "Well, what do you think?" I shrug hopelessly, and throw my hands up into the air, thudding against the wall as I lean against it. "I don't know! At first, I think maybe, because of the way he would look at me and talk to me, but then other times it seems quite obvious he isn't because of the way he flirts with the girls at school, and the way he pays no attention to Ethan's totally obvious passes!" I sigh and fall into silence, and before Madison can say anything in reply, Josh is running up, eyes glowing with excitement and cheeks red with fervor. "Hey," he says breathlessly, glancing with a grin to Madison before training his gaze upon me. I, of course, melt. "Hi," I reply softly, unable to keep the involuntary love-struck grin off my face as I do so. Madison winks at him and waves to both of us as she moves away. "I've left my men alone long enough," she says mischievously, and shimmies back into the awaiting cluster of adoring guys that have been hovering nearby ever since she pulled me away to talk. Josh watches her go for a moment, chuckling, and then looks back at me, his eyes glowing crazily, as green as psychotic limes. "I can't believe you haven't found anyone to dance with yet." He says, his whole body seeming to thrum to the beat floating around us. I shrug, and laugh. "No-one wants to dance with a freak." His eyes widen and he laughs incredulously, spreading his arms wide and grinning. "I'm a freak... are you saying no-one wants to dance with me?" I giggle, and point wryly behind him, to the sea of eyes that have followed his movements, men and women alike. "No," I say. "But you're a different kind of freak than I am." "How so?" he asks, not bothering to follow my gesture. He tilts his head to the side slightly, questioningly. I shrug. "You know. Good looking; sexy. The kind of stuff people want." I tense as I say this, not daring to look at him for fear that I'll see him start to back away or something. He is quiet for a moment, and I am aware of him stepping closer to me. "And you're not?" Quietly. "Nooo..." I instantly reply, feeling my nerve endings tingle as he moves closer and closer. "I'm not." His hand finds mine again, and the entanglement of our fingers comes more quickly this time, surer now of the other's touch. I hold on to him desperately, still not able to look up at him, my heart surging uncontrollably. "It's a shame you think that. I think you are. But then again, I'm not a girl, so my opinion doesn't matter." He's pulling me closer to him while walking backwards, into the moving crowd. I sigh with shivering desire as I feel him get closer and closer, and my next words are murmured dazedly. "Matters more than any girl's could..." I don't know if he hears me say this, because he says nothing, simply draws me closer and closer. But I'm too swept up in the fact that Josh has told me he thinks I'm sexy, or good looking at least, to care if he heard me or not, my hands tightening on his tremblingly. Suddenly I am right up against him, our chests almost touching, and my cheek pressing against his. It is like my dream. I try not to gasp or shudder as I realise this, and he speaks after a moment, slowly moving to the music. Delirium, I think, the song "Silence". "You owe me a dance, then, since you couldn't find anyone else." His words are wickedly soft, slow and deliberate, and I tremble uncontrollably at the sound of them, nodding after a moment. "If you want...and don't...mind..." I manage to say, gaspingly reaching for air. Before I can finish my sentence, his hands are pulling away from my own, slipping slowly around my waist, resting on my hips as he begins to step backwards into the crowd, spinning slowly to the music. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly as he does so, silently willing myself not to think too much, the erection I can feel slowly beginning to burn in my pants not welcome at all. I hesitantly lift my arms to encircle his waist in turn, and his amber-toned, slow, sexy chuckle makes my heart leap in my chest. "Of course I want, and no, I don't mind," he murmurs gradually, his face turning even more against mine as his lips press a sudden, quick kiss to my cheek. It is probably the wired aura of the club, but I can feel that kiss burn right through my skin as if it were liquid fire, sending my whole body to fall into a crazy rush, my fingers tightening around him instinctively as desire once more washes through me, soaking me thoroughly. I begin to clutch him closer, my fingers sliding up his back slightly to get a better hold, memorizing the taut cords of muscle under his skin and clothes, my chest arresting in its instinctive motion as I move. He readily steps closer as I pull him, his warm arms slipping further around me as he does so, and my face becomes lost in the soft darkness of his hair. I breathe in the intoxicating softness of it slowly, as deeply as I can, wanting it to fill my veins so that I might carry it around with me forever. 'I can't believe this is happening,' I say to myself dizzily, thrilling as I feel Josh move against me, his whole body seeming to become an extension of the music all around us. I move with him as best as I can, opening my eyes only to find Madison watching us, a delighted, almost motherly grin upon her face. I say "almost" motherly, because there is an undeniable impish quality to it that is nothing but teenage. I can't help but grin back, and she winks, flashing me a thumbs-up before dancing off again. I become aware of Josh's breathing; more intense and deeper than usual, and I realize he is doing the same thing I just was. I feel his fingers move through my hair slowly, feel him breathe in the scent of it, and my eyes drift longingly closed as he does so, desiring nothing more than for him to continue, and never stop. "You smell great," he exhales into my ear; the warmth of his breath on my ear almost making my knees buckle. "So do you," I whisper indistinctly, my own fingers reaching up to trail through his hair after a nervous moment. "You always do." He smiles; I can feel his cheek press into mine further as it moves, and suddenly his arms are resting on my shoulders, his fingers wrapping behind my neck. I tug him slightly closer, our hips almost touching, my face pressing tightly against his, my eyes closed and simply riding on feeling. I turn my face slightly and press a tremulous, helpless kiss to his cheek in return to the one he gave me, my lips lingering there longer than they should, but my mind powerless to move them, my body screaming at me to keep touching him, keep kissing him, keep desiring him. Against every preconception I might have held going into this, every weak, and barely dreamt desire is then suddenly amplified as I hear him moan delicately, feel him suddenly press his body against mine, gripping my chest tightly, his fingers pressing into my back. I shudder in his embrace, and without giving myself time to think, kiss his cheek again, breathing unevenly. He presses his cheek against my lips, demanding another, and I hear his breathing coming in slow, shuddering gasps, his grip increasingly tightening upon my back. I can only comply, almost insane with the knowledge of the almost holy perfection of the face I am kissing, my every thought directed upon him and him alone. The club seems to have faded away at this point, the music even dwindling to a bare register. My heart feels near to bursting, and I know I'm shaking like crazy, but I keep kissing his cheek, pressing a feverish trail heading towards his neck, and almost fainting with arousal as he tilts his head to the side to allow me passage. His breathing comes in quivering jolts, and then I hear him speak breathlessly, his lips coming to grace my cheek once more, an urgency to the touch that makes me groan inaudibly. "You're the best dancer here," he says, his hips brushing mine once more as we slip past a wildly dancing couple. I laugh weakly at this and blush frantically. "Nah... I don't have the grace or crazy moves that some of the chicks do," I say lightly, never releasing my hold on him. "You've got grace," he replies, his voice sensual velvet in my ear. "And I wouldn't know anything about the chicks since I don't dance with them." I bite my tongue hard as he says this, disbelief making my head turn so that my eyes find his. He doesn't dance with girls? Ever? My heart thumps madly. Okay, better make this next question sound innocent. He is regarding me calmly, a dangerous, almost careless look in those green eyes that makes me want to strip him, right here, and make a trail down his chest with my tongue, while his ecstatic hands on my shoulders push me down farther, deeper.. "You don't dance with them? Seems like they all want a piece of you...it's a shame; the way you dance, you could make an excellent partner." He grins slightly and closes his eyes for a moment, his fingers pressing deeper into my back. "Why would I want to dance with them when I can dance with you? They're much less sexy. And besides...none of them have eyes that I can get lost in, like you do." I stare at him in crazy shock; he opens his eyes slowly, languidly, and locks onto my startled ones, whereupon his hand lifts off my back and comes around to touch my cheek, the backs of his fingers trickling like soft rain down my skin. "You have the most incredible eyes I've ever seen, Silver. They're like light reflected off a sword blade. It's like they see everything, and accept it all, even the ugly stuff. Like a permanent song is playing in your head, and your eyes can't contain the joy of it, so they have to shine like the stars in order to exist..." I can feel my mouth open and close a few times after he is done; my eyes widely staring at his, shock and burning love coursing through my veins. Did he just say that to me? Did JOSH just use those beautiful words? Words I've always ached to hear in some form from ANYONE and they'd come from HIM? My hand jerks up to find his, and I clutch it tightly, trying to send my feelings through our joint touch, for I know any words I could ever possibly say will never come close to the emotions raging inside of me. I can feel tears already blurring my vision, the glowing green of his eyes becoming all I see, all I ever want to see. I want to tell him... I want to tell him how much I love him, how much I want and need him. I want to open my mouth and ask him out right here, or at least gather up the courage to kiss him as deeply as I've ever dreamt of kissing him, to whisper into his lips all the words I've written or thought about him. But before I can choose any of these, before I can reply to his words, or do that green-eyed gaze justice, I hear: "Josh. Can I talk to you for a sec?" We stare at each other for a moment, despair already sinking my heart, and I can see Josh's eyes change: the blazing emerald slowly dims and grows to a dark, unyielding green, and they look down, his dark lashes obscuring them from my sight. Interrupted AGAIN. I am instantly convinced: the gods hate me. His fingers twitch and then slowly drop from mine; mine are too weak to stop him, too devastated to demand what my heart wishes, and that is for him to tell whomever it is to fuck off. I look over slowly, and see Ethan, his expression dark, and his eyes seeming to spit venomous fire as they glance at me. "Yeah," Josh mutters after a heavy moment, looking back at me as he removes his arm from around my waist. I look off to the side as we step away from each other, my fists clenching slowly as rage begins to rise. "I'll be back," he says to me, and I nod wordlessly, catching out of the corner of my eye as he pulls his fingers irritably through his hair and directs a glaring look to Ethan. Ethan simply starts to walk away, and after a moment, Josh follows, anger making his movements stark and precise. I don't know whether to laugh out of joy, or cry out of rage. I can hear the music, but it doesn't seem to make sense, the rhythms disjointed and ugly, the voice singing too shrill and plaintive. The only thing that is beautiful is Josh, and I stare after him dully, craving his beauty like I have no other thing. I see them merge into the crowd, heading for a corner in which to talk; Josh glancing back trying to find me, but missing me every time. Madison slips up beside me, her eyes upon Josh's retreating figure as well, her expression troubled. She looks to me questioningly. "What the hell...?" I shrug slightly, my eyes burning holes in the back of Ethan's head. "I don't know. He wanted to talk to him." I can hear my voice: monotone. Madison sighs, and for the first time I hear her speak angrily. "Asshole. Figures that Ethan would go and ruin it. He's good at shit like that. Are...are you okay?" I nod with a forced smile, suddenly very tired somehow. She offers me a smile, hugging me sympathetically. "Well," she says with a grin, "what do you think now?" I have to grin back, and happiness once more floods my heart, lifting my fatigue off and away. She giggles and nudges me, hanging on me as we watch the place Josh disappeared into. "I think I'm the luckiest guy on Earth," I say quietly. "Cause even if I don't get a chance with him, at least I know that there was the possibility. I think the gods are trying to drive me mad, though... creating such a beautifully sexy guy who is gay... and putting him right in my path..." Madison hugs me tighter, and kisses my cheek again, to which I reciprocate readily. "Josh is a wonderful guy... and if anyone deserves him, I think its you. But I gotta go... the song's almost over and the night is growing old!" I laugh and nod, releasing her. Before she goes back to dancing, however, she calls over her shoulder. "Josh's 'rents are going away this weekend, so he's having a party at his house. You're invited. SPECIFICALLY invited by Josh himself. So make sure you show!" I nod, giggling happily to myself, the problem of Ethan floating away on her joyful grin. I wave her back into the crowd, and compose myself to wait for Josh, the smile on my face attracting other smiles from people passing me. I can't help but laugh as they smile at me; an incredible joy swelling my entire being as I rethink the sudden events over, the feeling of Josh's lips on my cheek returning to burn my skin strangely once more. After a while, I slowly become aware of how thirsty I am, and so after a few more minutes of waiting for him, I decide to quickly run to the washroom to get a much-needed drink of water. Pushing through the crowd quickly, I slip between dancing couples and past lone dancers who pull at my sleeves and smile invitingly at me to join them, shrugging as I decline, still making my way to the back. After a while of pushing my way through sweaty, glitter-covered bodies, I finally reach the back, and make my way down the crowded hallway to the men's washroom. I see the door, and am about to push it open when I see, at the end of the hallway against the wall, Josh and Ethan. I narrow my eyes slightly, for the shadows somewhat obscure them. But what I eventually do see makes my hand drop limply back at my side, and my heart to feel as though it has plummeted out of my chest, through the floor, and landed in the cold nether regions of Antarctica. Ethan has Josh's hands pinned up against the wall; his body pressed right up against Josh's as they kiss. I see them, kissing hungrily, Josh's fingers entwining with Ethan's forcefully, Ethan kissing him with a passion that makes me sick, a nauseating feeling boiling in the pit of my stomach. I can watch no longer. I turn around, my vision suddenly becoming distorted; I don't realize this is because tears are streaming down my face. A hollow surge of incredulous anger and betrayal floods my senses, and I stumble down the hallway, wanting to get away from there as soon as I can. I don't know how I manage to get out of the club, or home even, but the next thing I realize is that I am in my room, curled up against my tear-soaked pillow, my eyes dry and burning because they can cry no more. The last thing I think before I fall into a dead sleep is: He was toying with you. Making you pay for all the shit you put him through. And now he's got Ethan. And you'll never fucking forget that. Neither will he.