Like Air

Writing Prompt Two: So this is what it means to drown.

Before our adventure begins, the beginning must be told. When I met him I was quiet, internal, mindfully collected in a strong, elegant sort of way. I had dedicated so much of my efforts to becoming a pillar of womanly independence that I had forgotten what it was like to feel loved, to know romance. When I was ready to search again, I did so with vigor. There were requirements of myself and of any future him that needed to be satisfied. There were playful requests, too… for the man I wanted him to be, but also the history which was attached to him.

When his hands wrapped around my neck and squeezed gently, slowly cinching my breath to a trickle, I knew I had found the one. His lips forcefully pushed into my own and with an open mouth his tongue massaged my tongue and just before the release his teeth bit into my lip. He could make me moan with involuntary pleasure. Noises escaping my captured throat that I made no effort to make. He knew he had me, body, spirit, and faith. I trusted him to destroy me in the most beautiful way; to torture me with his love. And he did, continues to do so, and forever will. His will be a taste that lingers in my mouth for all my years to come. A craving I will harbor until my end is reached. With this knowledge, I accept my fate, loving him like I love the air I breathe. And when he is away my lungs ache for him, my mind lamenting: so this is what it means to drown.

They say you should be careful for what you wish for because it just might come true.

I didn’t realize happiness needed a warning.

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Jaymee is the creative director and writing force behind Beaux Cooper Media. She loves to collaborate with other writers and journalists across the genres. Jaymee lives on the beautiful coast of Rhode Island with her cat, Ada, and dog, Bean.

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