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"What do you want me to do?" You ask as you stand in my room, surrounded by paints and canvases. It kills me to stand here, near the door while you nervously rub your sweaty palms against the pair of faded jeans you are wearing.
I cannot wrap my mind around the fact that you agreed.
Are you really so aware of how beautiful you are?
Do you know that you are my muse?
"Sit," I motioned toward my bed. I watch you as you stare at it apprehensively as if you are rethinking your decision. I panic because I don't want you to back out. Opening my mouth, I try to think of something reassuring but before I can, you start unbuttoning your green shirt.
My nerves are shaking as I see the flash of the smooth and naked chest that it was obscuring. I wonder how you'll taste like.
I can only watch you as you pull your shirt over your head and drop it on the ground. My hands itch to grab you and feel you. I want to feel your chest under my tongue, savour the taste of your skin. It looks delicious.
Alarms blare in my mind when you began to pull your jeans down. You have no underwear underneath, making me wonder if you had already seen this coming. My breath comes out in short and shallow gasps.
If there was a God out there, I swear He would've made you, only to break you, only to fix you again. He must've been really determined to create perfection because only then could've He have achieved your beauty, your aura. You're almost magical. Too perfect for this harsh world.
What did you ever see in me that you wanted to protect? I want to know because if I had seen you this way before, I would've snatched you from the world, hidden you away, as you did to me.
You rotate your neck and stretch yourself. I know your tempting me and I know to win the war, to have you completely submit to me, I needed to win the war. My mouth runs dry and I want to stare at you shamelessly, I want to run my hands all over you shamelessly, I want you to yield to me.
"How do I sit?" You ask.
"In any way that you are comfortable," I reply, keeping my words sharp and cold.
I cannot lose another battle.
"Lie down," I tell you, starling myself, "fall asleep with your eyes open."
You have a look in your eyes that throws my heart and mind into a conflict. As a distraction, I lift my canvas and place it at a spot where I can see a side of your body. You lie down on my cover and I think of how I would spend the night, with the fragrance of yours captured in my sheets. It will invade my senses and drive me mad.
A good kind of mad. Maybe my madness will gravitate you more toward me.
You're the insanity that universe had bestowed upon me.
For you, I have left my sanity for good.
I don't feel like fighting it anymore.
You fold your knees and keep the soles of your feet pressed against the bed, one hand stretches toward me as if you're trying to reach me and with the other, you're playing with your dark hair that is splayed around your head like a dark halo. You look like a Dark God.
I cannot tell you what about you it is that attracts me to you.
It is the whole, the entirety, all of you.
With trembling breaths and an erratically beating heart, I pick my brush. It wavers when I look at you again. My grip fails me when mine meets yours. The glint in your eyes seizes me.
You shouldn't have the power to do all that, my muse.
You deserve me at my knees. You deserve me at your will.
I tell you silently. As if you heard them loud and clear, you smile lazily. The serpent that had wrapped itself around my torso, vanishes- and I can breathe.
I can breathe.
My gaze switches back and forth from the blank canvas and the untouched, sinfully sinister you- and I find myself asking,
