I have sat for a long while now, in the dark, waiting.
I know how it works. Well read, I am a writer and a man who believes in many things others may not. Destiny, fate, and love. Truth and beauty. Dark things in the night.
I left my front door unlatched for him. I know he will come. He read the invitation in my eyes tonight, as I watched him, just as surely as I had responded to his unique courtship.
Thinking of what was to come, I shivered in exquisite anticipation.
Much later, he stepped silently out of the shadows that lurk in my brownstone’s corners. He stopped, as if to display himself for me in a beam of night shimmered moonlight coming from the very window from which I had watched him earlier tonight. He was young, much younger than I had thought, hardly more than a boy really, like me. He wore jeans, a rumpled white shirt, and a scarred leather jacket. A gold cross hung from his neck on a fragile chain. His hair, two raven wings, fell straight and unbound over his shoulders and reached nearly to his waist.
He looked at me with an unearthly stillness and my breath stopped for the long moment until he spoke.
“You are mine,” he said.
I almost fell to my knees so strong was the pull of him, something raw and tender in his voice as he spoke the words only confirming what we both already knew. My fingers curled behind me, gripping so tightly my nails cut into my palms. I was tossed in the storm of my emotions, frozen there where I stood. Fear and desire mingled to form a heady mixture. It was intoxicating, frightening.
“I can’t hurt you,” he said, as if he had heard my fearful thoughts quite clearly.
He came closer, so close we could have kissed with only the slightest pursing of our lips.
I heard a sigh, as if from a distance. Was it his? Was it mine? I did not know. This seemed to be a dream. Perhaps it was. Perhaps I had fallen, without knowing it, into a dream that only seemed real. I stood looking at him, shaking with thundering desire. My craving for the full force of him was almost more than I could bear.
Pain and pleasure were both promised in his eyes. Just one touch, my mind screamed.
“Only a taste,” he said, his warm breath licking over my mouth.