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Damn. One minute, I'm all settled down for an evening of dull moping and trying to bury myself in literature by the glow of the Christmas tree. The next, my face contains more heat and colour than any of the rest of my body and my heart's making enthusiastic attempts at freedom from the constraints of my ribcage.
Why is he here?
This is my refuge. My haven from all the places I might run in to him. The one place I know I'm safe and I can breathe without icy pain catching at the edges of my lungs; the one place I feel thawed. Yet here he is: all damp hair and electric eyes suddenly beside me like a lightning bolt on pause. I wonder if my subtlety's reaching new lows as I shrink into the arm of the sofa on my safe left-hand side with a half-hearted "Hi" in return to his cheerful greeting. Why won't my breathing slow down?
It doesn't take long before he's asking if I'm ok - and I'm prepared for this. I've been ambushed and I know I'm not veiling my hurt too well so I reply with a customary comment on tiredness and he lets it go. Too easy. A tiny part inside wishes he would press the matter.
I make a show of immersion in my book when in reality I've read the same line at least twelve times now, and his awkwardness is palpable at my cold manner and abrupt responses to his chatty questions. I feel a perverse sense of pleasure at the discomfort I'm causing him to radiate. I made him feel.
I swing wildly between agonising desperation to touch his skin and the crippling desire to unleash the barely-guarded pain behind my eyes. Neither wins out so I shelter under frost. I wouldn't be surprised to see him shiver under the onslaught of my icy confliction.
I am irrationally angry at him for being here - he has no right to invade. Particularly when I'm in an unflattering flannel shirt and ill-fitting socks. My hair's apparently feeling particularly rebellious today, too. He's not supposed to see me like this; unprepared. Unravelled. I wish he wasn't here, tugging so hard on all the things tangled up inside me that I've worked so hard to keep numb.

Someone's pressed play, and he's gone again. Only the dizzying imprint of the flash patterning my vision remains.
And now I'm missing him so much it screams from me in waves of silent agony. I want him back here; my blue-eyed lightning bolt.
So he turned up at the house this evening, out of the blue. Well, not exactly out of the blue... he did have a meeting with my host. But still. I wasn't prepared.

Haha, "out of the blue". Good one, Bec.




"Yeah you're a blue-eyed lightning bolt"~Brand New
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:iconstormofblue:
StormofBlue Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2010
Funny; I don't really think love is all one emotion- too complex for that. When you look at a person you care for, you feel protective,affectionate, and defensive and resentful, because you know that they can see through you at your worst moments, and you hate them for changing you... Love the story; captures the confusion and simplicty of it all.
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:icondifferentlikeyou:
DifferentLikeYou Featured By Owner Mar 11, 2010
Thank you so much - that's exactly what I wanted to convey (:
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:iconstormofblue:
StormofBlue Featured By Owner Mar 11, 2010
Thank you, for writing the story, and for understanding what i meant (Some people don't, or at least don't make an effort to)
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:icondifferentlikeyou:
DifferentLikeYou Featured By Owner Mar 15, 2010
No problem - you are very insightful!
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:iconstormofblue:
StormofBlue Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2010
You're too kind
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:iconflashgrilled:
flashgrilled Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2008  Hobbyist Writer
God, I haven't felt like that in ages - it must be thrilling. I think the secret is to take control of it - in whichever way you think is best. To be passive is to consent.

Also, keep writing... ''Shelter from cold. We're never alone. Coordinate brain and mouth. Then ask me what it's like to have myself so figured out. I wish I knew.''
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:icondifferentlikeyou:
DifferentLikeYou Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2008
It is, incredibly. But it scares me too. I don't think I should have such violent emotions towards someone :/
But yes, I felt a strange sense of power this evening in how uncomfortable I made him feel. It was nice to be the one in control for once.
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:iconflashgrilled:
flashgrilled Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2008  Hobbyist Writer
In the words of one Charles Xavier from the hit film '...The Last Stand' :-

''Don't let it control you.''

*Laughs at self* Lol, take it easy. :D
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