Post by Cascadia on Sept 10, 2008 13:15:32 GMT -5
And that's what caught his attention.
"Are you alright ?"
Switch-overs are always annoying.
"What happened ?"
I blink the water out of my eyes and shake my head.
"Nothing."
Leaning back against the wall I can't get rid of the fuzzy feeling. Almost like I'm dreaming. It's funny, reality feels less real to me then the void of my mind. At least the spinning stopped.
"Are you going to wash me this time...or...?" He grins at me and I smile back. It's been a while since I've seen him. He doesn't know it's me though, or I doubt he'd be asking me to touch him.
I don't answer, just step closer and take up the soap. He sighs and leans back against the wall while I spread it over his chest, enjoying the feel of him again. Well, not really him. But close enough.
I should have put more effort into washing him, teasing him like he'd been expecting her to do. But all I could think about was the last thing I'd said to him. Don't touch me, Michael.
I moved down to his legs and kept washing. I guess if I had stayed, I might have been more mean to him later. Hurt him more. Leaving to get things straightened out just seemed like the best option. That's what I tell myself, anyway. I know it's bullshit. I don't even really believe it, but I am glad it helped. I can't deny that.
I tap his leg and he turns around, facing the wall.
He's really tense. I wonder if it's from the crappy mattress on the floor or from stress. Both, probably. I stand again, grabbing more soap for his back.
I'm not even sure why I'm in control right now, I've been going through the memories of the few...weeks ? Has it really been weeks already ? That I missed. I have few from my trip, it's all really dizzying. Blurry. I don't even know how I made it back. And here I am, washing him, missing his other, and pissing off her.
She was mad at me. Even though she never said it, she was. She still is, I can feel it. Especially now. She really likes showering with him, apparently. And I guess here I am, taking away something she likes. Again. Well, sor-ry. Of course it's my fault I can't ...well, yeah it is.
I guess had I stayed here I wouldn't be fucking up the little things, like how to just watch instead of take over suddenly. I did mean to just watch, see what was going on. Take a break from watching their weeks of nothingness and bitching. And then poof! In the shower I am, with her dazed and confused in the back of our mind somewhere.
"Are you going to rinse me ?" Mmm, oh, right. Forgot that part. I take the shower head down and start, scolding myself for not paying attention. I really suck at this.
She's always been the more mature one. The nurturer or whatever. And Jag's the protector, and I'm the baby. Weighing them down and whining along the way.
The only reason I am glad I went on that trip at all is because I do feel more mature now. At least I don't lie to myself so much. And I feel better. Healthier. Which means she's been keeping up everywhere I wasn't...like usual.
I replace the shower head and smile at him. I think she's stirring. Such a strange thing, she's trying to take over. Well, go on. I think. I relax, let him switch places with me, place my hand against the shower wall. Take over.
But she won't. Or can't. I think it's the latter. I'm relaxed, trying to go back to where I belong. The void welcomes me. But she's distracting me, and he's starting to wash me. Now I know why she wants to get out so bad. This feels amazing. I laugh inwardly at my reflection on the white, shiny wall. My cheek resting against it, I trace my hand over the hand on the wall, watching it follow my movements.
Is that you, Aimee ? I grin at her and feel that thing in me that I hate but when it's out it feels so good. I close my eyes and let him wash me, no longer trying to let her take control. She's yelling at me while his hands move over our skin. My skin. She's just watching from the shower wall.
He moves from my back down my legs and I stick my tongue out at her. Yeah, alright. Maybe I am still childish. The thing twists deeper and I moan. She's screaming now. I let my head fall forward to rest against hers. We sigh in ecstasy and agony. You can guess which is which.
He stands again, washing up my arms. My left, then moves to the right. My left hand slides slowly down the wall, leaving a trail of bubbles that distort her features. Enjoying the show ?
I reach around behind me, taking him in my hand and she freezes, not yelling, or talking to me at all. I shift backward and he steps closer. It feels good, and I want him. I haven't felt anything this good...such a long time.
He whispers in my ear, and I want it. I do. She shakes her head at me and starts crying. The thing stabs me and I wince. It always goes too far. I turn my head towards his, he's nibbling on my ear and neck and I smile at him, letting go.
He tugs gently at my waist and I turn around. I lean my back against hers and she tilts her head back in defeat. I'm smiling at him while he keeps on, oblivious to our mental war. He hates me. I saw him say it to her. A couple times.
It doesn't matter now though, he's almost finished, and I think I can feel where she is in my mind. I wish he loved me like he did her. What he's putting into this massage makes it obvious he loves her. I took off, and now I have no one to love me. And it's my own fault.
He washes me off and I turn again to face her. She's still crying at me. I sigh, when he starts talking again. Short, soft whispers. Sweet nothings, they're called. And they are not for me.
"I love you," he says.
I shake my head sadly at him. He looks at me funny. He knows. Aimee is waiting.
"No, you don't." He's annoyed at me. I lean my head against his and
Switch-overs are always annoying. But it's fine. I'm used to being alone in here.
The void welcomes me.
"Are you alright ?"
Switch-overs are always annoying.
"What happened ?"
I blink the water out of my eyes and shake my head.
"Nothing."
Leaning back against the wall I can't get rid of the fuzzy feeling. Almost like I'm dreaming. It's funny, reality feels less real to me then the void of my mind. At least the spinning stopped.
"Are you going to wash me this time...or...?" He grins at me and I smile back. It's been a while since I've seen him. He doesn't know it's me though, or I doubt he'd be asking me to touch him.
I don't answer, just step closer and take up the soap. He sighs and leans back against the wall while I spread it over his chest, enjoying the feel of him again. Well, not really him. But close enough.
I should have put more effort into washing him, teasing him like he'd been expecting her to do. But all I could think about was the last thing I'd said to him. Don't touch me, Michael.
I moved down to his legs and kept washing. I guess if I had stayed, I might have been more mean to him later. Hurt him more. Leaving to get things straightened out just seemed like the best option. That's what I tell myself, anyway. I know it's bullshit. I don't even really believe it, but I am glad it helped. I can't deny that.
I tap his leg and he turns around, facing the wall.
He's really tense. I wonder if it's from the crappy mattress on the floor or from stress. Both, probably. I stand again, grabbing more soap for his back.
I'm not even sure why I'm in control right now, I've been going through the memories of the few...weeks ? Has it really been weeks already ? That I missed. I have few from my trip, it's all really dizzying. Blurry. I don't even know how I made it back. And here I am, washing him, missing his other, and pissing off her.
She was mad at me. Even though she never said it, she was. She still is, I can feel it. Especially now. She really likes showering with him, apparently. And I guess here I am, taking away something she likes. Again. Well, sor-ry. Of course it's my fault I can't ...well, yeah it is.
I guess had I stayed here I wouldn't be fucking up the little things, like how to just watch instead of take over suddenly. I did mean to just watch, see what was going on. Take a break from watching their weeks of nothingness and bitching. And then poof! In the shower I am, with her dazed and confused in the back of our mind somewhere.
"Are you going to rinse me ?" Mmm, oh, right. Forgot that part. I take the shower head down and start, scolding myself for not paying attention. I really suck at this.
She's always been the more mature one. The nurturer or whatever. And Jag's the protector, and I'm the baby. Weighing them down and whining along the way.
The only reason I am glad I went on that trip at all is because I do feel more mature now. At least I don't lie to myself so much. And I feel better. Healthier. Which means she's been keeping up everywhere I wasn't...like usual.
I replace the shower head and smile at him. I think she's stirring. Such a strange thing, she's trying to take over. Well, go on. I think. I relax, let him switch places with me, place my hand against the shower wall. Take over.
But she won't. Or can't. I think it's the latter. I'm relaxed, trying to go back to where I belong. The void welcomes me. But she's distracting me, and he's starting to wash me. Now I know why she wants to get out so bad. This feels amazing. I laugh inwardly at my reflection on the white, shiny wall. My cheek resting against it, I trace my hand over the hand on the wall, watching it follow my movements.
Is that you, Aimee ? I grin at her and feel that thing in me that I hate but when it's out it feels so good. I close my eyes and let him wash me, no longer trying to let her take control. She's yelling at me while his hands move over our skin. My skin. She's just watching from the shower wall.
He moves from my back down my legs and I stick my tongue out at her. Yeah, alright. Maybe I am still childish. The thing twists deeper and I moan. She's screaming now. I let my head fall forward to rest against hers. We sigh in ecstasy and agony. You can guess which is which.
He stands again, washing up my arms. My left, then moves to the right. My left hand slides slowly down the wall, leaving a trail of bubbles that distort her features. Enjoying the show ?
I reach around behind me, taking him in my hand and she freezes, not yelling, or talking to me at all. I shift backward and he steps closer. It feels good, and I want him. I haven't felt anything this good...such a long time.
He whispers in my ear, and I want it. I do. She shakes her head at me and starts crying. The thing stabs me and I wince. It always goes too far. I turn my head towards his, he's nibbling on my ear and neck and I smile at him, letting go.
He tugs gently at my waist and I turn around. I lean my back against hers and she tilts her head back in defeat. I'm smiling at him while he keeps on, oblivious to our mental war. He hates me. I saw him say it to her. A couple times.
It doesn't matter now though, he's almost finished, and I think I can feel where she is in my mind. I wish he loved me like he did her. What he's putting into this massage makes it obvious he loves her. I took off, and now I have no one to love me. And it's my own fault.
He washes me off and I turn again to face her. She's still crying at me. I sigh, when he starts talking again. Short, soft whispers. Sweet nothings, they're called. And they are not for me.
"I love you," he says.
I shake my head sadly at him. He looks at me funny. He knows. Aimee is waiting.
"No, you don't." He's annoyed at me. I lean my head against his and
Switch-overs are always annoying. But it's fine. I'm used to being alone in here.
The void welcomes me.