My Moonlight

twenty two

Swift, handsome, unbelievably intelligent, cold-hearted, but loving, Sean Laurent Milano. Or known as SEEN, the tag name he uses for art, poems, and songs. Why 'SEEN'? Because when he writes his name down, people think it's Sean, pronounced like seen. But it's Sean, pronounced like shan.

I found out that when he was twelve to fifteen, he made art inside the church that he and his mom went to. Even though he's told the public that his belief in God and Jesus where low, he still goes when he can for his mom. He would be the type of boyfriend to tell you that he's not gonna get you something, but in the end, gets it anyway to make you happy.

I don't think he notices that he's a nice man. He tries to do his best all the time. And I think he's giving me more affection than usual because I was acting like that to him. I going to see what happens when I act a little differently towards him.

I close the refrigerator door, setting the strawberries on the counter. I softly sigh, thinking about if I should start listening to classical music. I rub the back of my neck and take the container of strawberries and open the top, walking over to the sink, running the water over them. The water runs out the holes of the container as my fingers wander through the strawberries.

A hand runs through my hair softly and kisses my forehead. "Good morning." He greets me, his voice is lower than usual, vibrating through my body as he moves closer to me. "I hope you had a good night." He brings up, hearing him open the refrigerator, and then close it.
He yawns, setting something on the counter
beside me. I look at it, turning the water off.

"What is that?" I ask curiously, wiping my hand off with a towel. I pick up the bag of green balls on a stick, moving the bag around. "Grapes." He says, looking down at me, expressionless I look at him. "Grapes?" I ask, holding one to my mouth, and biting into it.
Its sweet but tangy flavor makes me scrunch my face up. I swallow. "Disaster. Hyucktooyie." I complain softly, sticking my tongue out.

He frowns and eats two. "delicious." He says blandly. I smile at him. He leans down, kisses my nose softly, and pulls back. "What do you want to do today?" He asks me, wrapping his hand around my waist. I look up at him, thinking.

"You can teach me a little French," I suggest. He puts his hand on his face, facepalming himself. "French?" He asks, sort of complaining. I scoff and lean against his bare chest, placing my hand on his cheek. "Riddle me this, Sunggie." He says in a croaky voice, pointing his finger in my face gently. "Why are you so short?" He asks me in that same voice.

I gasp and cross my arms. "I'm 170.18 centimeters! That's not short!" I whine, frowning. He laughs. "Well for a man that is about 220.98 centimeters, you look like a whiney man-child." He teases, giving me a devious smile. "But you're cute. I don't mind you being so short, honey." He says in his regular, deep sotto voice, grabbing my hip softly. He bends down to my level.

I blush softly and fiddle with my fingers. "Il ne faut pas se fier aux apparences. One should not trust appearances." He tells me, kissing my lips softly, and playing with my hair with his right hand. I look up at him with a bashful face, pouting my lips. "You know I like candy right?" He asks me leaning over to my lips again, putting his hand under my chin, and kissing me again. I nod, biting my lip curiously. "Nobody else knows that except you." He says in a cooing tone.

"Riddle me this, Sunggie." He says again, pointing the same finger in my face gently.
His smile drops, giving me a serious look, grabbing a strawberry from off the counter.
"Did you know that strawberries give you sexual desire?" his voice drops a few notches, rubbing my bottom lip as he opens my mouth, putting the bottom of the strawberry in my mouth, looking me in my eyes seductively.
"That's why I like strawberries." He says softly, biting the top of it off and eating it.

My heart races, looking at him stunned. He looks at me with a mischievous smile. "You're so sexual Sean, nobody would've known." I judge him. He slips off a part of my sleeve on my shoulder, kissing me slowly, and wrapping my arms around his neck. I look at him, trailing kisses to my neck. I smile, lucky I have someone who'll please me like no other. I stroke his hair, soft like a lamb's fur. I close my eyes and lean my head back, holding in a moan.

I scratch his head softly, my fingers digging into his scalp. He growls and bites my neck softly, placing his hand on the back of my neck.
"Okay, Sean. That's enough baby." I tell him, running my hand through his hair. He looks up at me, his face filled with confusion. "Why aren't you doing what you usually do?" He asks me softly, letting go of me gently. "Are you okay?" He makes sure I'm okay, he pulls away and stands up straight.

"I'm fine, Sean..." I reassure him, looking into his eyes. "It's just that I feel you're not being yourself, how you usually act. You're around me more, and not making fun of me, or sitting down reading or being as quiet, staying your distance that you usually stay." I tell him. He lets out a soft sigh of relief. "Thank you for noticing. I was thinking that you wanted me to do so much and stuff. Plus I don't like hugs and smiles and bopping the other finger on others' noses, baby talk, and vulnerable little nicknames." He tells me quickly, patting me on my shoulder. It's like his whole personality changed back around, with his face looking like he's always bored out of his soul.

He walks off upstairs.

I guess he's always like that when he's by himself. But every time I look into his eyes I see a little vulnerability in them. I'm in love with him. I want to see what people saw in him when he was happier than ever. Before the guy who was a Portuguese artist who all of a sudden got famous. Right or wrong I want you to love me. right or wrong, no one can stop me from loving you. You can take what you from me whilst you have a smile on you're facing. Hide me from the world if you need to. Who cares if anyone thinks loving you is right, or wrong?

I put everything back in the refrigerator, walking upstairs to his open door. He sits on his bed, staring at the book he usually reads, looking at the back cover and turning it back round to read the page he was reading. His eyes scan the pages, him fidgeting with the book cover, distracted.

When I feel your touch, I can't control myself.
The feeling takes over me. Simply just looking into my eyes will kill me.

I walk up to him slowly, sitting on his lap. I stare into his eyes softly. He looks down at me, with no expression on his face. "Hey." He says and looks back to his book. I kiss him on his cheek. "Hi baby," I respond, taking the book out if his hand. He looks back at me. "Yes?" He asks me, taking the book back into his hands and sitting it by his side. I kiss his forehead, leaning on his body. He sighs, putting his hands on my hips, trying to keep me still.

He feels on my hips, rubbing on my sensitive spot. I moan as I kiss the other side of his cheek he looks up at me confused. "Are you okay, Sung-Ook?" He asks me, looking into my eyes and down to my bottom half. "W-what are you wearing anything under there-?" He slides his hands under the big shirt I wearing that covers my thighs. His fingers go under my boxers. He looks back at me and raises his eyebrow with a smile on his face.