Like Acid

by Nicholas


Title: Like Acid
Author: Nicholas

E-Mail: nicholas@hegalplace.com

Pairing: M/K
Category: /
Rating: PG-13
Words: 390

*

Dont't touch me when you know you'll hate me, another caress to my sweatsoaked skin would be like acid burning away all that's been and nothing will ever be, not anymore, not on me, in me.

Your kisses are punches of another kind, they bruise, they hurt, invisible to you but just as punishing as your hands once were, just as destructive, as utterly - sometimes I wish you wouldn't even see me.

But you do. Your eyes that burn that hole into my face, a stripe of blazing fire as your gaze slips down, burned, blistered, uncovered, the flesh laid bare. You once said you would like to see inside me. Now your fingers poke around in the remains of my dissected body.

You lick a trail down my skin and tell me that you are tasting me, my desire on your tongue when in truth it is my blood you taste. It still coats your lips, don't you see that?

You whisper those words into my ear, and they echo like gunshots through my body, harsh, never-ending, and I need to close my eyes, falling prey to the illusion that that will keep me from hearing you and your whispers and moans.

Your final throes and your cum on my flesh, soaking me, marked as yours, to use, to abuse. It burns where it connects with me, inside, burns in me, another layer of acid, yours, on me, in me, destroying what's been left once, by now it is all gone.

You fall asleep and I jump up, take a shower to wash away all the traces of you. I watch you swivel down the drain, to leave me behind, leave me intact again. As intact as possible. Not very intact then.

Halfway through the door - the sigh of relief, the drawn breath of fresh air from the hallway, the real world so near, so close - you murmur something, and it is like a whiplash striking my back, making me cringe, and pause, almost crumple, but merely avert my eyes. "You will be back?"

I nod. My feet lead me outside. The door closed to close you off. I inhale and the air is as stale here as it's been with you. Yours. To use and abuse. Nothing has changed. You merely call it love now.

*

The End
 

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