In Love With Darkness

As the covers gradually glided down my body, I felt a gentle hand rest on the small of my back. The touch was incredibly warm, almost to the point of being scorching, as if the blood coursing through its veins raced faster than that of any ordinary man. If this were indeed the case, I wouldn't find it surprising.

With a heavy heart, I reluctantly opened my eyes, only to be greeted by darkness, as always, whenever he paid me a visit. In these moments, a recurring pattern emerged—a fleeting instance of lucidity. It was a fleeting moment when my rational mind urged me to shut my eyes, part my lips, and sternly instruct him to depart.

However, deep down, I knew that if I were to muster the courage to voice my desire for him to leave, he would oblige without uttering a single word. As silently as he appeared, he would vanish into the night, leaving me alone with my conflicting emotions.

And he’d never come back.

But this was the right thing to do. The smart thing to do. Thesanething to do.

And I was thinking of doing it, honest to God, I was. I thought about doing it every time.

Then I felt his weight hit the bed, his body stretching out beside mine, he turned me into him, I opened my mouth to speak and before I could do the sane thing, his mouth was on mine.

And for the next two hours, I didn’t think at all.

But I felt. I felta lot.

And all of it wasgood.

* * * * *

The room remained shrouded in darkness as I observed the shifting silhouette of the man. Lying in bed, I quietly watched him glide about without making a sound, which struck me as rather peculiar. Apart from a faint rustling of his clothes, an encompassing silence enveloped his movements.

Even as an indistinct figure, it was evident that he exuded an air of powerful and masculine grace, an aspect that struck me as unusual. Witnessing my enigmatic visitor donning his clothes was akin to observing a mesmerizing display of a badass, macho dance – or at least that's how it felt to me. Of course, such a comparison is not something one encounters every day, except in my bedroom, when he paid his visits. Well, to be precise, when he prepared to depart.