The Story of Blood and Roses

[This is where the lemony goodness will start. You are forewarned.]

He sat on the couch, gripping his hair. His face was hidden behind his overgrown hair, and his knuckles were white with how tightly he gripped at his own hair. Silently moving to him, I put my hand on his elbows, making him jump.

"You caught me off guard," he whispered. He gulped a lump in his throat as he stared. "You're so beautiful," his hushed tone sent a chill up my spine.

"I know," I told him. There was no smugness in my voice. I just conceded to what he said, because that was what his words made me feel.

"Do you want to go out for a smoke?" I shook my head.

"How did the call go?" I asked him. His eyes widened and panic flashed in his eyes. "You can't hide anything from me anymore. Did you know that?" his pained eyes turned to me.

"You read me because I want you to read me. I would have it no other way."

"That is so unlike you, Michael."

"Tell me, Mia. Will I always remain Michael to you? My dead best friend?" So, that was the source of worry. He offered every part of himself, and now he was scared that I like the part of him that he thought didn't exist.

"You're sort of cute when you are insecure and almost catatonic," I teased. He gave me a glare, almost and went back to gripping his hair. My hands slipped from his elbows to gently circle over his knuckles. I gently untangled them from his hand and brought it to my hands. I traced the zigzag of patterns in his palms. He shuddered as I did so. I peeked at him, curiously and found him giving me a serene look.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he said suddenly. Stricken, I moved away.

I did.

I did believe that he loved me.

I was sure that it was what he was referring to.

"I know. I understand," I assured him. "I have no other option than to believe me... it just took me a little time."

"But that's not how it should be. I would want you to throw yourself into my arms and trust me to catch you. I would want you to kiss me first and show everyone that I'm yours," he sighed in exasperation.

"What is this about?" I asked him, confused. "I always thought that men asked women to be their possession. Do you not have the need to possess me?"

"I want to consume you, Mia. I do. I want to overpower you and make you mine, but not at the cost that you do not feel the same for me."He rolled his shoulders and then stood up.

"That is a fascinating concept, but I don't think that is how it works," I told him in a soft voice. His head turned to mine. His stance changed. A slow smile spread across his lips as he turned fully to face me.

"Ask me to show you," he challenged. "I want to show you," it was the most pleasurable proposal someone had given me.

"Let me devour you," he took one step towards me. I took two backward.

"Let me worship every cell in your body and light them on fire." Another step back.

"Let me show you that love is just as violent as shooting a gun."

"Let me show you that the bullet is what you love. You love me, Mia." I breathed. I tried desperately to shake my head and say no. At least I didn't say yes.

"Kiss me," he demanded. This time, I shook my head. "Kiss me." I jerked upright. I sucked in a breath and then let myself go.

Two steps forward. One more.

My hands found his face. His eyes burned as they stared right back at me. He licked his lips, his eyes flickering to my lips. I inched onto my toes and then kissed his neck.

His chin.

His jaw.

The corner of his lips.

I gave him a quick lick.

He leaned in, but I pulled back.

"You asked me..." I breathed out. "Now let me," I demanded.

His lips parted as he conceded. His Adam's apple bobbed as he waited.

Anticipation, I realized, made the moment sweeter than anything I had ever experienced. He was right... every cell in my body was blazing hotter than the sun, and he just stood there. He had made one small attempt to get closer, but nothing else.

"What are you capable of?" I asked, knowing the answer well. "What can you do to me?" I wish I could keep the amusement out of my voice. I parted my mouth slowly and then pressed our mouths together. My hands found his hair. I pulled his head back and then kissed him harder, pressing forward until we were stumbling onto the couch.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"To see?" he nodded. "Yes," I gulped. "Show me." All signs of teasing vanished. His hands gripped my waist as he kissed me. He was slow and deliberate. He pulled a hand away from my waist and brought it to my neck.

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