Dream a little dream of me

I’m standing in narrow hallway surrounded with group of Asians. They’re talking fast and with strange accent, I don’t recognize the language but I do recognize a face. It turns out the face belong to Xiah, and behind him (oh the surprise –.-) peers out JaeJoong. On the walls are splattered video bins playing all sorts of choreographies. Dancers seem to fly across the flat screens like some good trained butterflies. There’s a noise coming from a voice a little further down the hallway, there something familiar with it in the back of my mind, and when I look down I know why – I know to whom raising voice belongs. Rage takes over me like a beating hammer. I found my self standing in front of him telling the girl with who he was fighting with to leave. She did as I said which left me facing a very ugly, blond face with translucent eyes and voice irritating beyond acceptable. I start shouting back, raising own blood pressure beyond boiling point, and with his every pointless word it grew higher and higher until breaking point where my voice became a freezing whisper in contrast of inner lava boiling in me waiting for his very wrong move to spill over him and make him ahs long before his heart stops beating. Fist was tight like string waiting to slash and smash without my conscious consent, and while I was subconsciously aiming where to pound it, completely different sensation startled me. I gazed down on the wrist of the fist in question and found fingers (very gentle pianistic fingers) stretched over it. I raised my gaze on the fingers’ owner’s face and gasped in surprise. I don’t know was it my expression or his own beliefs of overstepping social boundaries but he released my wrist and came standing to me. In spite of his cultural boundaries he stood next to me with our skin touching from shoulder to hip. Blondie speaks and breaks my focus of him, my sudden calmness dispersed in exchange for flaring anger and my mouth opened but what came out wasn’t of my voice’s doing. It was JaeJoongs’s, once again leaving me startled. His voice raised from steady and mild to pleasant growling (have to admit: from all the things I least expected this one was biggest shock) blondie shut up for what looked like a very short moment then he began his tirade again which had for cause me overstepping in his personal space, which in turn caused Jae’s intervention in the form of setting himself between the blond and me. I don’t know what did it: was it the JaeJoong’s words, or my dead gaze, or the fact that Jae pushed me with him at my back in the room that suddenly appeared behind us (or it was there all the time I just was too busy flaring anger to notice it) and firmly shut the door in blond’s face that stopped his extremely voice irritating our ears further more. I was just glad it did it. Room was quite plain, it had pale walls, contained 2 hotel beds, one tv and closet. Tv was on and showing choreographies like the rest of video bins. I turned towards him starting to say something but he cut me off with subject of song beats. I gladly accepted conversation ‘cause it was something I was familiar with and sort of good, then we jumped on topic what differentiates hits from just-a-songs, he slipped in choreographies, I slipped in editing and directing. We just enjoyed talking, which is very rare for me. Only few people have privilege understanding what I’m saying most of the time, and he was a treat. Then I finally became aware of his presence in front of me, few inches taller, so close with my back nailed to closet. So close I could tell the almost-no-difference in between shading of his raven hair from his exotic eyes, which suited perfect contrast with his snow complexion. His breath tingled across my lips and I wondered does it tastes as good as it smells? I stared at his parted lips noticing their ‘pale rose’ color and how perfectly fit with  everything else on him. Few moments after I came to realize that he was speaking, but for the life of me I couldn’t discern any of it (in my defense: maybe it was Korean). He stopped talking while I still unscrupulously stared at his lips, it took approximately few moments for my brain to register it and a few more for me to give command to look in his eyes and my body to fulfill it. Once it did, I once again, gazed aimlessly at his almost pitch black eyes. But when our gazes met my brain jumped from not working at all to lightning speed, making me realize that not only did he stop talking he stared at me intensely as I at him. Look cut trough me like lightning blade: trough my eyes, my brain, lower to my heart, and then to something that meant not to be touched by any hand. That awoke that quiet thing in me, thing so similar to lava, and made it rise like boomerang in answer to it. It spilled over me like reckoning force, from me, throwing me on him, clashing my lips to his, crashing our bodies on something behind him. Everything went up like in explosion! Every touch felt magnified hundred times, every breath thousand times, I was blind to the world but I could feel it more thoroughly than I could ever with just eyes. His presence beneath me was like another force of nature. He was warm, soft, skin glaze thin and perfect like glass stretched over firmness of his muscle fibers. His lips tasted like they were made of the softest summer rain, or maybe it was his technique… He raises fast underneath me almost rocking me, breath coming close to sharp, it excites me, wakes the feel of predator hunting its pray, adrenaline rush comes running trough veins scattering faster trough rash flowing blood, another wave of heat runs trough me, over me, from me spilling onto him. Leaving us gasping. My vision came into focus and I gazed upon his face into his raven eyes. He gazed back, it was to me unfamiliar look, new, exciting, calming… but then again instinctively it was the most familiar and oldest look set in every being from the beginning of time. His lips parted as in to say something, I shook my head from left to right, took his hand and attached it over my heart. His hand felt warm against my skin, palm radiating heat just over the place beneath which laid heart, his fingers lay in the recess between my neck and collar bone tingling. Then I noticed his late reaction of surprise to my beating-like-hummingbird-heart. It made me smile. He took mine free hand in his and in mirroring motion placed it over his heart. His skin radiated heat even trough his clothes, I pressed my palm harder into him, pushing clothes away, attaching my skin to his, firm inside soft outside, and from within… came familiar hummingbird feeling, synchronized to mine I now heard in my ears. That moment held perfect understanding that no words could ever sum up. Our gaze locked, seeing deeper than eyes. Touching those places that nothing physical could ever touch. Eruption came for me, for him, spilled over us, locking us tight in each others arms, rolling us, beating us like heat waves crashing on stones. In middle of it all I laughed… laugh was one of those I though didn’t exist in me any more, than he laughed a healthy full-throated laugh that rained over my ears and hot skin like light summer rain. We laughed until it grew into something more quiet…

Heaven's Postman Kissushite


About itanadean

Sta bih mogla da vam kazem o sebi? Da procitate pripovetku o Izvanzemaljki Izi. Pisana iz perspektive mog prijatelja, i ja sam bila iznenadjena gledajuci se kroz oci sveta... ali nista nije promenilo, to sta drugi ljudi misle o meni se mene savrseno ne tice. Tice me se Kosmos, Put, Dusa, ljubav, umetnost, odnosi medju ljudima, alhemija, magija, okultno, DNK nauka, i svi neobicni, posebni ljudi s kojima imam cast da delim Vreme zivotnog puta.
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