Joyeux Anniversaire

To: Rach
There was the violin. There always was. After all, wasn't it the instrument that had brought us together? Hadn't I let myself be seduced by the crystalline notes, the pristine melody, the mournful cry of his violin?

Nicolas, gleam of taut flesh under the harsh stage light. White, almost blinding, the light shone on him, like a divine ray from heaven; and he was the dark angel with the violin. Body arched with passion, strands of pretty brown hair escaped from their black silk ribbon, the rippling muscles that peeked provocatively through a thin white shirt... 

He looked at me, and he taunted me. The half-delirious eyes and the red sensual lips partially open like the buds of a blossoming rose, all served their purpose to torment me. I watched him half raise his arm and bring the bow down quick and shallow, ripping into the music and yet soothing it over again before it climaxed; much like catching a snowflake that melts in your hands before you can truly see it. Nicolas smiled, slowly sliding the bow down the string until the note echoed eerily in the empty hall.

Listening to the haunting sound of the devil's own instrument, the sombre melody played just a bit too perfectly by slender, ivory fingers, I am drunk. Drunk on blood and beauty and death and the morbid wailing of the violin. The light played on the slightly damp skin, bathing his contoured chest in an amber glow. He shimmered like a bereft and ruinous god of darkness and my fingertips ached for his soft, yielding flesh.

A part of me yearned to pull him down into this darkness, but I’ve walked that path before. I want to crash and burn... to push him away while at the same time drawing him closer, to keep him at an arms reach when all I really want is to pull him in and crush his soul with mine. I wanted to lock him into this world where chaos and destruction reign... where love and hate clash violently and the line between the two becomes blurred. I wanted to reside in that place where the only thing that can save me from myself is the sound of his beating heart. 


I can’t give him the world when it’s not mine to offer and it seems that what I do have is never enough to keep him by my side.