Running Through the Streets

He had smelt of paint, the chemicals wafted off him, the same smells that intoxicated the attic bedroom. But what had radiated off from him was warm and palpable while the attic room left her waking with the reminder that she was alone, the harsh smell of the paint’s ingredients like the painful morning rays of sunlight that fell on her eyes forcing her awake. His scent had been a hand to her cheek.
The piercing had shocked her but she had resisted crying out. She would have been ashamed of it, to cry at what would seem to him such a little thing. Yet he had held her head so gently when he did it. As the earring went through the only sign she gave of her pain was a tear that ran to her lips. He had run his finger along them making them shine invitingly. He had resisted also, too fearful of his shame and guilt.
As she turned to look at him his eyes had widened, a deep green that lit up from the sunlight. As she saw his face concentrate on hers the smallest of smiles had sprung to her lips. She hadn’t meant to but the expression she gave was of utter love and surprise that she had felt love prick at her heart, a jolt of hotness that quickly filled her chest and straightened her back. Concentrating on his eyes the feeling melted downwards to her legs and lingered in the fold between them. Hours she had sat there, warm from the sunlight that washed through the panes of dirty glass and swept across the room. Her lips and cheeks filled with the vermillion of a familiar yet alien sensation in her body. She had ran through the streets, concentrating on that feeling, ignoring the earthy tones and colours of the streets around her, concentrating on the brightness of the cobalt blue she had made that morning, the vermillion that kissed her cheeks in his painting. He had seen her, intimately but without a touch.
Seeing Pieter she grabbed his wrist with a look of urgency. Seeing those eyes and that expression of interest on her face he had followed her, willingly. He looked at her with such gladness and surprise she felt assured that this was what she wanted. She led him to a quiet place out of sight and sound from the streets where he caught her up in his arms, and kissed her pale soft neck. Beautiful, achingly beautiful she was. He pulled back to look at her, questioning this fast pace of action. He didn’t want to hurt her; he didn’t want to reject her either. She understood the small furrow in his forehead and gave a small nod and a downward glance: to ask for such a thing embarrassed her but the feeling in her legs would not die away. It lingered in her joints as she had ran through the streets: it felt as if she would collapse if that small spark within her was not fanned.
He gently took her chin and turned her face, taking in her profile, the plumpness of her cheek, the wide blue eyes and long soft neck, gentle and warm to the touch of his lips. As she put her arms around his neck, his hands reached to the curve of her hip. The most hypnotic part of her walk was how that curve straightened and strengthened as one foot was put in front of the other. So simple and yet so thrilling. She kissed his cheek, hard yet lovingly and he sighed with ache in his heart for this girl who wanted to be his. His hands explored her waist, the roundness and strength of her stomach that was so hauntingly concealed by her garments. With a close of the eyes, he burrowed his face into her neck and kissed her hard.
As he lifted her skirts she burrowed her face into his neck breathing him in, warm and inviting yes, but no scent of wood and paint, but rather blood from the market and alcohol. His breath deepened as did hers and the fold between her legs suddenly ached with sensation, welcome and new. He kissed her again, deeper than he had ever done before and she felt something in the centre of her leap up, as if pushing her towards the inky sky. They gently rocked together, pushed against the cool stone wall. He held her tightly to him, her legs round his waist, each thrusting against the other. This feeling powered her, moved her hands over his back and suddenly pulled his face from the curve of her breasts to hers where she looked straight into his eyes. They stared, slowly moving against the other, concentrating on strengthening the feeling inside them. He gazed at her beauty as she slowly unfurled herself to him. She was both hot and soft at the same time, inviting and yet terrifying to him. All he could do was to stare at her, this round, silken woman and love her. They began to move faster and faster their breaths deep and in time with one another’s. As she pushed herself against him, him deep within her she felt one final leap within her chest and she gasped, almost pain but quickly dissolving into a feeling of water drenching her, cool and peaceful. Slowly she opened her eyes, soft with that slippery feeling.
She felt him warm and liquid within her and sighed with relief. That beauty of a feeling slowly dissolved but the peace stayed within her. She took both her hands and placed them on his face. She pulled him in slowly to her lips and kissed him, gently and lovingly. Her eyes met his once more and with a drop of her heart realised they were brown.