So utterly amazing!

Sort of crap piece of short fiction

{A fat girl can dream, can't she?}

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Moments 1

          He roughly grabbed at the tiny fists beating his chest. His six foot plus frame dwarfed her five foot two frail and hurt, yet large and substantial body. She had been crying, taking out all of her withheld anger and frustration at the thin-obsessed world, at the men who failed to see her shimmering light, on his broad chest. Her hands secured in his, her face holding the mixed emotions of anger, hurt, sadness and surprise, he made a simple decision. Closing the inches between them in one swift motion, he captured her trembling lips in a kiss both filled with, and fueled by, a desperate need.

            Her eyes, now the size if the moon, shone green as un-spilled tears threatened to betray her. She slowly lowered her lashes, succumbing to the tears, which cascaded down her blushing cheeks to flow along her jaw line. He released her hands to caress the nape of her neck, running the rough pad if his thumb just under her ear. She shivered and, hands still trembling, leaned into his form and his kiss. Resting her hands onto his firm chest, she felt his heartbeat, as he felt her pulse under her ear, both beating in a rapid and panicked unison.

            It felt as though, clichéd as it was, the world had stopped. As though all the sounds around them had been muted by the pounding of their now entangled hearts, that all other people had vanished, leaving a world shrouded in a cloak of black and white tableau, leaving only the exploding colours behind their closed lids to remain. Her lips were on fire. Trapped in his, she could only taste salt and honey and she quickly found herself addicted to him. She had never felt so safe, secure, had never felt something so sure as his hard chest, his soft lips, and the growing fire within her.

            He was lost, lost in the scent, the taste, the feel, everything that made up the woman resting against him. His knees nearly buckled with the surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. His fingers worried and wound themselves into her dark hair, feeling each strand glide against pads of index and ring. She was made of silk and lemon juice – soft, smooth, acidic, a deadly combination which formed a poison he was sure would consume him.

            How had they been so blind to each other for so long?

            A noise, the door latch hitching, announcing an intruder, forced them apart. Out of breath and confused, they caught each others' eyes, and for the briefest of moments, fell in love. They turned their bodies away from each other and became, once again, close acquaintances, left to count their misgivings and sift through the shattered remains of hearts left broken.

           

            Her throat was closed off, she daren’t utter a sound.

            His footsteps were far too loud, but carried on in a desperate bid for freedom.

            Both silently told themselves to never fall for her eyes, or his warmth, ever again. Both terrified of what could have been. Terrified of what was now a lost moment.