Clutching my arm close to my chest, I strode briskly down the hallway, thoughts racing through my head. What will you say? Will you be disgusted with me? Will you consider it to be too much and push me away? My feet came to a stop, just before your door. I should have called you first, or at least checked the chatrooms to see if you were here. I slowly raised my fist to the door, pausing just before making contact, waiting quietly, listening for any sound of living beyond the door. Was that the sound of the window closing? The wind was rather chilly, I hope you don’t catch a cold. But if you do, I will take care of you, just as you said you would take care of me. The knock sounded louder than I had meant, I hope it didn’t startle you. I know it’s late. Soft footsteps approached me, hidden by the closed door. Cautiously, you opened it, but when the realization of who I was crossed your face, you smiled that breathtaking smile, opening the door wider, inviting me in. Only when I had stepped past the doorstep, did you see why I was here. Oh, how I hated to see that expression cross your beautiful features. How I hated to be the cause of it. This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come. You surprised me, as you gently took my arm and led me to your bedside, imploring me to sit down. I didn’t want to resist; I wanted to be spoiled with your attention, at least for a moment.
Before you could say a word, I pressed my gift towards you, an apology for coming to you in my current state. If not for the serious expression on your face, I could have laughed. Did you really not see them in my hand when I first entered? Can I allow myself to think so selfishly that you were so concerned with my injury, that you were blind to the present I brought you? Concern melted into happiness, but only for a moment. The color suited your perfectly, I thought, as you took a second to press the bouquet to your nose, inhaling its scent, before placing it down gently on the bedside table. In our walks, you had told me how much you loved roses, and I took the time to introduce you to each species we had in our garden, our Paradise. The one that caught your eye, however, was the rare strain of violet-shaded roses, of which, we only had perhaps three bushes total. Ever since that night, whenever I see those roses, or even just a hint of that color, I’m reminded of you.
Your touch was so kind, as you kneeled in front of me, taking my arm in your hands. It pained me as you attempted to pull the torn fabric aside, to assess the extent of my injury, but I welcomed the pain. I would welcome any injury so long as I had you to come to to take care of me. Wordlessly, your hands moved to my chest, pulling at the collar on my jacket. Your every touch sent a spark of electricity through my body, even through my layers of clothing. Every motion was cautious and tender, as though you were afraid of hurting me more. I felt my jacket fall off of my shoulder, and using my other arm, I unbuttoned my shirt to expose my wound more. Glancing at you, was that blush I saw creeping across your cheeks? I thought my heart might beat out of my chest. Can you hear it? I learn something new about you with each expression you make. How concerned you are for me. How happy you are when I bring you gifts. How innocent you are when you realize our current setting, as I sit on the edge of your bed, half undressed. The faint glow of a rising moon casting shadows across the walls, the nearby roses releasing their subtle scent around us. With an ache in my arm, I pull it free of the restrains of my shirt, and yet another emotion crosses your faces. Curiosity? Following your stare, I realize that this is the first time you had seen it. The black lines mapping across my shoulder and down my arm, swirling to form the emblem of our Paradise. A shiver ran down my spine as you lifted a finger, setting it gently against the center of the design, tracing a line of fire across my skin as you glided it across the pattern. I become hyperaware of your body leaned close to mine, of your breath falling against my bare skin. Your eyes flickered up to meet mine, and I felt a heat rise deep within me. Do you know the power you have over me? It took all of the control I could muster to not pull you into me, to feel every inch of you pressed against me, to have your scent intoxicate me throughout the night.
And it was gone. As though you had also beaten down the desire inside of you. Will you allow me to think that you want me as much as I want you? Your hands returned to my wound, as you inspected it with undivided attention. But I can see past your ruse. Your hands tremble ever-so-slightly as you treat it with a solution; you chew your lip with a determination to not look me in the eyes, as you wrap the clean, white bandage around my forearm. I want to believe you’re fighting the impulse to reach up and enact the very scenes I had been playing in my head. I would injure myself even more if it meant I could stay here with you longer, in this very moment. I didn’t want your touch to leave my skin, but as you finished your care, I could feel the emptiness welling up inside of me. Is this what you meant when you said you feel lonely, when I don’t visit often enough? You lean back, giving a final examination of your work, before standing, using my knees as a brace. But, after standing, your hands remain, pressed against my legs, as you lean a fraction of your weight against them. Your silken hair fell in front of your face, obscuring your features. The emptiness inside of me is immediately filled with worry. Are you feeling well? I was so worried you would catch a cold. My thoughts are suddenly cut short when I feel something press against my mouth.
I must have felt like a statue as you pressed yourself against me, pressing your lips against my unmoving ones. I was in shock. They were so warm, so soft. I could never have imagined just how wonderful this would feel. I had tried, believe me, but no fantasy could capture the perfection of this moment. Shutting my eyes, I allowed myself to be taken over by this moment, as I pressed my hand against your neck, pulling you in closer to me. Legs found their place around my waist as you allowed me the privilege of molding my body against yours. Our breaths mixed together as we kissed, again and again. I let you dominate every inch of my mind, shutting off every unnecessary function, focusing solely on your movements against me, the scent of your hair that brushed against my face. Lavender? That suits you. Your hands gripped my hair, as you let yourself go, allowing yourself to give in to your desires. How often have you done this? How often have you given yourself over to your darkest desire? If you were going to, then so was I. Being careful to not disturb our actions, I maneuvered us further onto the bed, laying you down against the soft covers that I had chosen for you room, to give you the utmost comfort. Wanting to remember this moment, I pulled away, just to observe the image before me. Your hair spread around your angelic face, color warming your cheeks. Your crystal-clear eyes, lidded, and staring back into mine. And your lips. Beautifully reddened from our recent activity. As I leaned in again, I watched your eyes fall shut, anticipating my touch. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the bouquet of violet roses I had brought you, as an apology for burdening you with my injury. Six, violet roses. I wonder if you know the meaning of them? Perhaps in the morning, I will take the time to explain it to you. But tonight,
“I always reminded myself that The Shivering Isles is the most beautiful place ever, until I modded Oblivion and saw Mankar Camoran’s Paradise in ENB. I immediately wanted to stay there forever, but a freaking amulet and daedric forces stopped me. I took a screenshot of the place and kept it as my wallpaper for like a month, until I accidentally deleted it and Oblivion from my computer. I will forever respect Mankar, only because of his Paradise. It was like a nice view for the sore eyes.”