Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2003-02-09 02:17 am
azurelunatic) wrote2003-02-09 02:17 am
Mushy friendship/love stuff
He's still hot. Slender martial artist body, dark blond hair getting longer. It curls, when it's left to itself, about as much as mine.
There's something about his body heat. He feels warmer than he actually is. It soaks through me and relaxes all of me, better than soaking in the hot tub. I guess it's knowing he loves all of me, not just the surface that he sees. Now that I know why he doesn't want to get romantically involved with me, I can give him the time and space and patience he needs to chill out about that.
As long as I know that I mean so much to him that he won't risk his friendship with me, I can relax and not try to stick with him overtightly. That's all I really needed, to know how very much he cares. He's not used to the idea of romance involving him. Somehow I've slipped past his primary guards.
Forever friends. That's the kind we are.
I stood behind him while he was perched on the bed playing the game, and wrapped my arms around him and set my chin on his shoulder and stood there for a while. Not long, not half as long as I would have wanted, but long enough to warm me clear through. I barely escaped kissing his neck. There were so many times I felt sparks from him too. Not lustful, exactly, but warm and tender and full of the sort of trust and caring that is a good backrub, or a brush of the hand against the cheek.
I don't know if he's feeling it too. My intuition tells me that yes, he is, he has to be, but I always doubt.
I straightened his hair for him. The process of changing the tire had blown his hair all over, and he was joking about that. There was one lock that was still flipped up, and I reached over and fixed that for him.
In Drama class, the teacher told us that head-touching was a sign of intimacy; if you want to illustrate the closeness between, say, mother and daughter on stage, you have the mom fix the daughter's hair. Darkside brushes my hair out of my face when I'm hiding. I can fix his hair. This is good.
I treasure the bond we have. I love him.
There's something about his body heat. He feels warmer than he actually is. It soaks through me and relaxes all of me, better than soaking in the hot tub. I guess it's knowing he loves all of me, not just the surface that he sees. Now that I know why he doesn't want to get romantically involved with me, I can give him the time and space and patience he needs to chill out about that.
As long as I know that I mean so much to him that he won't risk his friendship with me, I can relax and not try to stick with him overtightly. That's all I really needed, to know how very much he cares. He's not used to the idea of romance involving him. Somehow I've slipped past his primary guards.
Forever friends. That's the kind we are.
I stood behind him while he was perched on the bed playing the game, and wrapped my arms around him and set my chin on his shoulder and stood there for a while. Not long, not half as long as I would have wanted, but long enough to warm me clear through. I barely escaped kissing his neck. There were so many times I felt sparks from him too. Not lustful, exactly, but warm and tender and full of the sort of trust and caring that is a good backrub, or a brush of the hand against the cheek.
I don't know if he's feeling it too. My intuition tells me that yes, he is, he has to be, but I always doubt.
I straightened his hair for him. The process of changing the tire had blown his hair all over, and he was joking about that. There was one lock that was still flipped up, and I reached over and fixed that for him.
In Drama class, the teacher told us that head-touching was a sign of intimacy; if you want to illustrate the closeness between, say, mother and daughter on stage, you have the mom fix the daughter's hair. Darkside brushes my hair out of my face when I'm hiding. I can fix his hair. This is good.
I treasure the bond we have. I love him.