Pairings: Take a look.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
'Nuff said. Feedback: Craved and worshiped. Give me some and get me as
He's an angel. He's absolute
hell. It's the middle of the night. I can feel the fatigue in my body
and yet I'm sitting here watching him sleep.
His eyes are closed. I can't see them. I can't look into those luminous
orbs and fall into their depths. He doesn't know, but reflective surfaces
do come in handy.
That chin. So defiant. He stands up to everyone and sets his jaw to do
it. When he does that it just makes me want to run my fingers along it,
to revel in the softness of his skin, and relax it. I want to make him
forget to be angry, forget that he isn't happy and make him happy.
I want to see those lips lift into a smile at the mere sight of me. He
doesn't realize how close I've some to turning around and siezing that
dilectible mouth and finding out what it's really like. It's torture,
such torture not knowing.
His hair is falling across his face now... He shifted in his sleep. I
want to push it off of his face, it's obsuring my view. But then again,
it adds a certain rakish charm. One I'm almost helpless against. Damn
it, he's doing it to me and he's not even awake!
I don't know how much longer I can hold out... My self control over this...
my feelings for him. There is too much danger, here in this war for any
of us to get attatched. Some of the others have, but I can't... I can't
let this happen... And yet it has. But it can't progress any farther.
If it does we will truly have a weakness for OZ to exploit. Should they
learn of it which is entirely possible. After all, one must know your
enemy in order to win against it.
I fight the urge to sigh at the figure on the bed; the entrancing figure
that stole my heart. I know I should sleep, but watching him seems a better
use of my time.
[back to Mair's fic]