More than a Melody (H.S) ON HOLD

27

twenty seven

He's here, at my door.

I don't even have to open it and I recognize his knock. Light, careful, no more than two, splintered knuckles tracing the frame with futile acknowledgement.

I don't know what time it is. Time doesn't exist. The sun could be up or down and I would have no ability to discern the difference.

The room is blue, the deep shade of blue you take photographs in and inhale because its color is so fleeting. Its moment is so fleeting. I can't feel my limbs, when I hear his knock my entire body enters this ominous void of tingly numbness. I stare at the door for so long that he knocks again.

"Olive?"

My knees go weak, but I don't allow myself to fall. I dance through this room of blue and reach for the metallic handle and take a deep breath. He's here. How long has it been?

When the door's body no longer separates me from him and him from me, I see the ringlet of curls and the cherry stained lips and the emerald green that was somehow much darker now- sadder, lonelier. I wonder if mine looked the same.

"You opened."

"You knocked."

Slowly, he moves his hand up, fingertips angling towards the curvature of my cheeks, touching the reflection of blue and imminent dusk. I can hear the rain now. Background music to this haunting, contemporary tragedy. Harry and Olive.

"It's been years since I've touched you," he whispers, the rhythm of his caress bleeding into the skin he runs over. His thumb traces the lower lining of my lip, curling its edges, feeling the pale flare of moisture.

"It's only been months," my voice is a breath of sound, a ghost, a spirit of reminiscence. His smile is the same.

"I know."

And then I'm stepping backwards and he's stepping forwards, our movements working in sync but in chaotic difference. He kicks the door shut with the back of his foot and my back is against this superficial blue wall. His chest pressed to mine, my chin lifted to meet the lonesome green.

"Can I?"

"Please."

The cherry meets the coral, lips and tongue and cells intermixing to create one divine whole. I want to feel all of him in this one single moment, I've gone so long without- that the presence of it all is overwhelmingly intoxicating.

His right hand grips the side of my neck while his left steadies below my ear, palms molding into my jaw and thumb burrowing into the peak of my cheek. I inadvertently feel my hands clutch his shirt, urging its removal, and in no time we're tangled together as our clothes fly around this blue room.

Chaos theory is sensitive, a small change can initiate a triumphant reaction. I wonder what change led him here, what subtle disaparity led to this seemingly chaotic change. Was it the coffee I overflowed this morning? The way it marveled down the side of the mug? Was it the laugh I let out hours ago, while on the phone with Delilah? What chain of events led him to be on top of me right now? Kissing down my neck and mumbling how much he's missed me?

What changed?

"You are truly a work of art," his teeth nibble on the lobe of my ear as he breathes out affections, my legs wrapped around his torso, hips grinding together with desperate ambition.

"Paint me."

He moans with my words, lips running down my chest as he thinks of all the ways his tongue can brush color on me, within me.

"Your only job is to feel." He pushes apart either thigh with a force that excites us both, making the sheets I lie in resemble clouds and autumn air- crisp and free.

"Look at me."

My eyes are shut but I open them, chest heaving as I anticipate the euphoric connection.

But when I look down, he is gone.

His touch is no more and his hot breath is replaced with something far colder, far more absent and isolated.

The despair is so great that I can't move. Everything is numb again.

And then I'm awake.

The room is no longer blue but black and I am alone. The mocking reflections of headlights prance across my walls, making it known that everything, he, was nothing more than a vivid dream. I hear a distant tune and a screen lights up but all I can manage is to curl in my knees and settle my dying heart.

He was never here.

___________________

i had written all the way up to chapter 34 but becasue i didn't like the flow, or what happened, i deleted all of them and had to restart
which sucks, but i hope the new plan for the next several chapters is much better haha.
so if the updates are slower, that's why, i don't have any pre-written as of right now

i know the past several ones have been sad :( ill try and publish a happy one here soon

hope youre all doing well <3

love love love you

taylor x