A Bunch of Blues

The Line Between

A/N: I Don't Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith inspired this one-shot... xD

An angel; a divine being of unparalleled beauty lying this close to him with nothing between them but skin.

She was a gorgeous creature; one whose eyes seemed to glow with warmth and hidden power, one whose hair was a glistening silver waterfall that fell in a wave of magnificent tresses down her back, one whose visage was as brilliant and stark as the rays of the sun at noon, one whose voice could be compared to a siren—alluring and mesmerizing.

This single moment in time was even more valuable to him compared to all the instances that had taken place in his life. He would forget them all if it meant keeping this moment in a crystal pedestal forever imprinted into his memory—never to fade with time. He could spend his entire life like this; an entire life fueled by this sweet surrender. He had once feared that he was wandering too far in these unfamiliar set of emotions—things that he felt for her, but it was too late. He was already lost in her void of blissful chaos.

He had read countless literary works that professed this kind of emotion. Every eloquent word used and every description likened to it, every poetic conviction at the thought of it—all of it paled in comparison to this. There were no words to describe this. Love wasn't a strong enough term. It was this. Not a sole being could possibly accurately describe what he felt right now. It was beyond love, that was for sure. It was something more; something he couldn't name, and something he didn't know.

The throes of slumber couldn't and shouldn't claim him yet. He was not done. He wanted to watch her like this—breathing softly, smiling amid her far-off dreams, wrapped in his bed sheets, nestled comfortably against the warmth of his own body, blissfully ignorant of the happenings around her.

She's so...peaceful, and content. The thought of that caused his chest to tighten pleasantly. It was the knowledge that she was in this state because of him, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if it was him she was dreaming of—what with the wistful smile upon those delicate lips. Close to her like this, he could feel her heart beating—strangely in sync with his own as if it were meant to pump like that all along. Every dip and curve in her body seemed to fit his like the missing half of a whole.

Glimmering cobalt blue eyes wandered to gaze upon her listless face. A reluctant hand reached out to touch what he seemed to be deprived off. He drew back for a moment, afraid to wake her just because of his whims, but he couldn't take it. He had to touch her—even for a brief moment, just to confirm that she wasn't a trick his mind played on him.

The fine line between a pleasant dream and the reality had blurred leaving the young man to teeter dangerously upon the edge. The sight—even the thought of her—seemed so illusory to him; as if she were a mirage that would vanish once approached. A being as gentle and ethereal as her should never have been acquainted to a creature as dark and twisted as he was.

His fingertips tentatively skimmed over her pallid cheek. He could remember cupping her face that way, and he was helpless to stop the pleasant swell that bloomed across his chest at the memory of her leaning so willingly into his touch. His fingers soon came across her abused lips that were swollen because of his kisses. They were a neutral shade of red that was strongly appealing, and he could not stop the memory as it assaulted him further. That mouth felt wondrous pressed against his own. Her lips felt delicate and tender as they engaged his in a passionate kiss filled with desire and longing and such fire.

He drew himself forward tentatively to kiss her closed eyelids. They fluttered underneath his touch and he could not help but find that endearing. He no longer had control as his hands explored the expanse of soft skin set before him. Bed sheets rustled lightly in the pale moonlight as she subconsciously responded to his ministrations.

His fingers glided over smooth seemingly porcelain flesh—delicate just like the rest of her. Her body knowingly arched against his even as she slumbered, her physical form as yielding as it was even when she was awake. He could feel the gentle beats of her heart against his own chest as his fingers worked their way up to tangle in silvery strands of silk. His lips quirked up at the corner when she snuggled closer and buried her face in the crook of his neck. His fingers kept playing out the solid rhythm it had created as he stroked her hair.

This moment was perfect; worth remembering. Even the scene that preceded this was equally memorable.

It felt exhilarating to feel such willing surrender from a woman who was capable of denying him if she wanted to. To know that he had been granted access to her carefully guarded heart was a privilege. And he knew it was one that she would never grant to anyone else other than him. She had yielded so perfectly to his will; her smooth arms around his shoulders, her famished kisses upon his mouth as he drank from her, her passionate lips setting his skin ablaze, her hands that wandered and caused eruptions of ecstasy in every place she touched, her magnificent silver hair that tickled his face, her voice that whispered sweet nothings into his ear, her gorgeous legs clamped firmly around his waist.

Heat and passion were one in the same. Every word, every touch, every kiss, and every thrust had been a road leading to utmost completion. The thoughts and ideas floating around inside his head only confirmed the speculations he had been dwelling on for the past few days. It scared him just as much as it reassured and strengthened him.

He needed her.

She was crucial to his survival, and the thought of even leaving her made him sick. No, she deserved all of him just as she had given him all of her.

He lowered his face a little to plant a soft loving kiss upon her bare shoulder. He gazed at her lovingly for some hours more before the clutches of sleep reached for him. He knew he was powerless to stop them so he surrendered himself into their hands. But even as he slowly began to nod off, he knew that even the sweetest dreams would never do. It couldn't. Not when he had the reality that was so much better than the imaginings that his mind could conjure.