My head is physically killing me. Ever since I've ran into her at the shopping Centrum, I've been turning my attention towards the bottle for some help. At least it helps for a little while, seeing as the liquid becomes less and less; the memories surrounding her also change to nonexistent. When the burning sensation takes away all of my logically higher cognitive process skills I feel like I might just survive this.
When her utterly soft plump lips aren't infiltrating my mind or those peculiar shade of brown orbs aren't nibbling its way towards inappropriate thoughts; I could probably, most likely survive this whole fiasco. She's not the only fish in the sea but she seems to filter my world. The teenage beauty had turn into a woman of impeccable standards and appears to hold my entire being within the hollow of her hands. I can't breathe! I can't think!
I simply don't want to exist without her in my life. It may sound morbid, in simplicity surely you could even say that I'm giving up on life completely. Living without her had never been added to my future plans and as hard as I've tried to push these feelings aside, only a single glance magnified the affection that I have for Genevieve Roberts.
I put on Goldilocks's hazards and pull up in front of the house where I am always welcome. The sandy white walls and ocean-blue roof fits the scenery like a glove. A cobblestone footpath snakes through a well maintained garden. I allow my feet to carry me straight towards the front door and give the small electrical button two quick rings. It's welcoming tone fills out the house, acknowledging the owners that they've got guests.
Right on queue the door swings open. Auntie Patricia snugs in a sharp breath when her eyes falls upon me. "Misha, what brings you here? I thought you went to your sister's for a while," she attempts to make some small talk but even so I can tell that something seems to be troubling her. Her attitude appears to be slightly off. "I'm back for a few days, just picking up some fresh clothing. My stay had been extended so therefore I'll be gone for a while longer. She and Simon can really use a hand around the house. Junior keeps them on their feet," I answer her with a broad smile. By mentioning the newest addition of the family her eyes softens a bit.
If Auntie P wants me to know about the issue at hand then she'll be sure to inform me so there's no need to pry. "If I'm interrupting something I could always come back later on," I suggest. She waves my proposal away with the back of her hand, "Don't be silly, you know that you're always welcome at our home. It's just that… you see-" Auntie P starts but cut herself off mid sentence. What's with the sudden odd behavior? Before I could question anything about it or figure out what could possibly be the reason behind her weirdness, she stands off to the side allowing me entrance.
As I turn a corner, I barely bump into the goddess that's been turning my mind upside-down. The same young lady who left me cold and dry all those years ago. The woman who still to this very day remains my beginning, my middle and my end. I take a deep, sharp intake of air. Her mere existence is sucking the life right out of me and I'm not even sure whether or not I mean it in a good or a bad way. We find ourselves in the midst of a little staring contest, which I in all honesty surely sucks at. Short before long my eyes drift down towards her perfect lips and I have to detain myself by not leaning in closer and place mine against hers. It's like having a battle with Satan himself.
Time and space between us had vanish, it's just her and me against the world. I swallow down the invincible lump that sticks to my throat, as she bite her bottom lip in between her teeth and let it go in a slow fashion. Allowing the unvanquishable string to puppeteer me, I lift my hand and gently place a thumb upon her full bottom lip. She leans into my touch, fanning her hot breath over my skin.
How such a small action could increase the beat of my heart at such level is beyond me? A shivering breath cross my lips. I should pull away; I know that I must because quite frankly, nobody at their right mind would fool around with an engaged woman. She had clearly made her choice and I'm sad to say that I am not part of that equation. With a quick motion I pull away from her. I can feel how a stunt yet confused expression bores holes through my outer covering as I'm staring down at my feet. My suspicion being confirmed once I meet her eyes. It feels likes somebody had repeatedly punch a dagger within my heart, splitting my soul into two.
The mere thought of being replaced by another is eating me up like a fast growing cancer. As much as I feel like apologizing to her for pulling away, I have noting to justify for. Her lips parted as to say something, but closed just as quickly as her father clears his throat behind her. "Misha join me out back for a cold one," he stated. It couldn't have come at a better time. As I follow close on Uncle Timothy's heals I couldn't stop the thoughts from pestering through my head. I love her and God knows that I will always be in love with Genevieve Roberts, but she's suppose to be getting married within a couple of months. There's no need to sugarcoat the truth but if you play with fire one's sure to burn some finger.