Title: This Could Be Love (Love for Fire)
Disclaimer: Mine. But the song belongs to the Alkaline Trio
Rating: PG-13 (implication of sex)
Note: This writing totally sucked. I blasted it out in two minutes and I hate every word. I apologize beforehand.
I sort of wonder if it was the quirks that lead me to love him. Or if they scared me. His bedroom messy hair- always in need of a trim. The way he'd run behind me after a fight, catch my arm and whisper I don't blame you for walking away; I'd do the same if I saw me in soft heated pants. How the second saturday of the month was always picnic day where he'd take me- blindfolded- down to a river or lake Michigan and we'd eat bucket chicken on my best sheets. They'd always end up dirty. And he'd wrap us in them and we'd laugh. The slightly hysterical laughter of the slightly insane. Or how he couldn't- couldn't- come to bed without lighting candles, that husky whisper asking forgiveness with the simple explanation I touch myself at thoughts of flames.
Maybe it was the night he filled the air with cinnamon burning from black votives, and we ended up in a leggy sprawl of sheets and good healthy gasps. How he rose up over me and smiled. You've got bonfires under your skin and I'm going to sit and watch you explode. It's so hard to argue with a man who can speak like that. With the same calm he'd use to ask Skim or two percent? Two percent. Skim tastes funny. Sure it does. And when it was over, he slumped down next to me, rolled over, and went back to sleep.