Dreaming,
but I'm not sleeping
Or have I died,
died of life

He sighed tiredly, as he poured himself a scotch. The city would soon be asleep, leaving only shimmering and multicolored spots of lights here and there, on the buildings, in the streets. It didn't prevent the nights to feel dark. Dark and sad.

Except when she came. It had been so unbearable when she had died, and one night, as she was comforting him, he had just opened his eyes, and it had struck him.

She would soon be there, she was never late. She looked so much like her, it was almost frightening, actually, and exciting, at the same time. Sometimes, when he held her small and pale frame, when he gazed at those lavender irides, hazy with pleasure, he felt like he was caressing a ghost, her ghost.

The more he thought about it, the more he knew their relationship was unhealthy. She was too young, he simply fed his own neurosis and demons each time he touched her. It was only sex, primal and shivering sensations, they scarcely talked, only moaned.

And almost each night, the child would come, to make herself give the pleasure that made scream.

And he would comply. He couldn't help it, he needed it.

From time to time, he asked himself why she did tolerate this. She was far from stupid, and she had long since understood his behavior. Still, she came. Maybe she was addicted too, after all. He could tell she had her own frustrations, which he probably relieved each time he ensured her 'education'.

It was definitively unhealthy. But a deal that provides to the interested parties hours of selfish sexual oblivion could only be considered as a good deal.

It was only human, after all.

Swimming,
as I'm sinking
I'm holding onto
letting go
Oh How does it feel
Making love to me like you do...

***

He slumped somberly in the old and cozy velvet couch, covered in various fabrics and cushions. his hand was flipping through the channels, but he wasn't even watching.

She was gone.

Again.

What did she think? That he was blind? Every night he could hear her check on him to make sure he was 'asleep' and she would leave.

Where? No... Not where. Who?!

He had wanted to talk to her about this, but he had given up soon enough. He lacked of vocabulary when it came to intimacy. And, in his position, he couldn't allow himself to pry. Still, he was worried when she disappeared, only to come home at dawn, stealthily. What was it that she couldn't even just slip him a word about?

He was anxious, or at least, it sounded better to him than admit that he was simply jealous.

***

Tell me,
Who would you be?
Would you be me?
The woman in me,
would you like to be?
Under my skin.
I'll let you in
Yeah yeah yeah

His train of thoughts, was disturbed, as he heard the door of his appartment silently slide open. She was there.

He didn't move, as she entered the room and approached him, sitting casually on his desk. He only watched her. In the dark, he couldn't quite discern her features, only the bluish sheen that the city's lights made shimmer in her hair. The illusion was even more stunning this way. she was so perfect, so similar to her.

He let himself float adrift his fantasy, and walked to the desk with a predatory grace. As usual, no words were exchanged, as he caught her mouth urgently, prying the soft lips open, tasting her. The kiss was rough, passionate and soon he was leaning against the edge of the cold desk, her legs wrapping around him, as he devoured her soft mouth.

When the need to breath forced them to part, she childishly refused to let go, nibbling at his lower lip, biting down softly, then harder, until he tasted the blood in his mouth, on his lips, as she lapped it with her tongue, suckling it like a dangerously wild cat.

I want
I wanna know what you're feeling
I wanna crawl under your skin
I wanna know how you feel in me
Yeah yeah yeah.

He barely understood how his shirt ended ripped on the floor.

Naked,
Oh I like you naked
And when I fake it,
You like me more

God knows how she aroused him when she acted like this, but his male pride didn't allow him to let his 'student' disrespect him... He pulled her dress over her head, throwing it hastily on the floor, and pushed her roughly against the cold glass of the desk. She stared at him through insolent and heavy lidded eyes, her breathing slowly becoming a series of soft pants and audible gasps.

He ran his hands in the short, silky midnight blue tendrils of hair, bending to smell it, and she purred at the unusually calm caress.

Exploring,
The taste I'm touching
You're watching
I'm watching you

However, it was soon enough replaced by the feel of his lips devouring her neck, kissing, biting, breathing. She would have a hickey, she thought idly, as his mouth and his hands descended on her breasts. she moaned sultrily, as his fingers and his tongue played with her nipple, making them almost painfully hard and overly sensitive. But it felt so good. She knew it, he had always had deft fingers...

She burried her small hands in his long hair, reveling in the sensations, urging him to give her what she really wanted. He sensed her haste, and used it against her, decided to make her wait.

Tell me,
Who would you be?
Would you be me?
The woman in me,
would you like to be?
Under my skin.
I'll let you in
Yeah yeah yeah

He toyed cruelly with the hem of her soaked panties, grazing the strategical zone, then leaving it, again, and again.

Eventually, she lost patience. Escaping his hands, and using his surprise, she tugged hard at his belt, then at his pants, freeing her main interest. He lost the will to resist her for a while, as she ran her fingers along the burning and throbbing lenghth, letting a saliva coated finger linger on the tip.

A sheer torture.

So, how would it feel,
Making love to me, If I were you?
Like you do...

Then he realized he was letting her win, and pushed her sharply to lay flat on the desk. She looked up at him with frustrated and challenging eyes, waiting for his next move.

He grazed her flat belly and the wet mound with trembling hands, and rubbed slowly againt her opening, his member pressing, but never entering.

She whimpered with pleading eyes, and he began to push forward, always so slowly. he had more in store for her.

Tell me,
Tell me,
Tell me,
Would you like to be me?
Yeah yeah yeah

He made his way inside the burning and tight passage, gripping her thighs to go deeper. When he was fully embedded inside her, he stopped.

He gazed at her with blazing eyes, contemplating his prey. He could feel her pulsing around him, squirming feebly, urging him to move. She was the incarnation of lust. Her eyes were closed in an expression of tormented bliss, her back sensuously arched, her fragile frame covered in a thin film of sweat, and her small breasts swayed slightly with each attempt to ground against him.

He resisted his own raging need, and ran his hands along her sides, massaged the small creamy mounds and the hardened buds, before grabbing firmly the small of her back with left hand, while the other continued to wander gently across her moist skin. When he was certain that he had her secured enough to be unable to move, even if her life had depended on it, he allowed his roaming hand to reach its goal.

Her moan shattered the silence, as his fingers began to roll slowly on her soft spot, grazing, massaging, playing. He gripped her tightly as she made desperate attempts to either escape this sweet torture, either force to move.

She sobbed as the sensations increased; the spasms in her belly never seemed to relieve her ache. The orgasm exquisite to the point of pain.

He watched her clutching his arms helplessly, scratching him. he could feel her contract around him, hear her panting. He decided it was enough.

Tell me,
Who would you be?
Would you be me?
The woman in me,
would you like to be?
Under my skin.
I'll let you in
Yeah yeah yeah

She barely felt him pull back slowly, and her eyes shot open when her small frame was rammed against him in one first powerful thrust. Satisfied by the long and erotic moan he had generated, he began to pound furiously inside her, staining the desk, sending a few files on the floor.

I want
I wanna know what you're feeling
I wanna crawl under your skin
I wanna know how you feel in me
Yeah yeah yeah.

She tried to reach out to grab him, but he dodged easily her gesture, and pinned efficiently her wrists over her head with his hands, still plunging himself deeper and harder inside her. He felt her body shake with every thrust, her back arch more and more, and, when it was too much, she almost went on a seizure.

He never ceased to ram into her, as her breathing came into ragged gasps and moans of excited pleasure. He bent down to kiss her, as if to swallow the scream accompanying her ectasy, and, seeing and feeling her come, he lost it too.

She closed he eyes and purred, stroking his his hair and feeling the throbbing organ and the warmth spilling deep inside her.

They stay still for a few minutes, in a pleasant daze, panting softly, before he got up and she fumbled in the dark for her shirt.

"Are you staying for the night?"

"No. Not this time."

"Fine."

***

He had paced back and forth, murdered a bottle of orange juice, made a carnage in the cookie jar, paced again.

She wasn't there.

Suddenly, he heard the door creak open. He hastily sprawled himself on the couch, careful to make it seem like he had fallen asleep watching television. And waited.

He heard her almost silent footsteps, the ruffling of her clothes, and he felt her approach the couch, checking on him, as usual. Then, it him. He felt his chest tighten painfully, he knew that smell, that intimate and musky scent...

He listened to her calm breathing, as she bent down for a second, then left to got to sleep.

Boys don't cry. Then why did his eyes itch so much? What was rolling slowly on his temples and wetting the cushion?

He was only her best friend, after all. He had no right to demand anything beyond that.

Then, why was he crying?

***

Tell me,
Who would you be?
Would you be me?
The woman in me,
would you like to be?
Under my skin.
I'll let you in
Yeah yeah yeah

She threw her clothes hapazardly, before tugging at her covers, she needed to sleep, to think. Was it possible to love somebody, and desire somebody else?

What was he feeling at those moments? What was he seeing?

She caught her reflexion in the mirror, barely distinct.

"Zechs... Did it feel the same with Lucrezia?"

I want
I wanna know, would you feel it?
I wanna crawl under your skin
I wanna know how you feel in me
Yeah yeah yeah.

Tell me,
Tell me,
Tell me...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~