[Phili]

Yeah, I know I have a lot of stories. I just... I keep coming up with ideas and I feel this need to share them so... here's Behind Blue Eyes.

His dark hair was pulled back from his face in clumpy spikes, revealing almost electric blue eyes. His lips were a deep red and fuller than his thin face. His dark clothes hung loosely over his ectomorphic form, his pale skin was stretched tightly over his bones. His shirt read "The Explosion" and his shoes were black high-tops, Converse. He looked not unlike an awkward teenaged boy, even though he had just turned twenty four. He had a baby face and faded scattered freckles across the bridge of his nose. Even though he was sitting, you could tell that he was tall. His legs were long under the baggy jeans and his torso was slender and slumped. His long slender fingers were callused from guitar strings, and looked strong, but as she watched him, she knew they were gentle. He was gentle.
He sat there, silent and still, contemplating whether or not to speak to the small woman in front of him.
She also had blue eyes, but hers were paler, mixed with green. Her light blonde hair fell over them and they were circled with black eyeliner, as if she wanted to hide them. He didn’t understand why she kept them under wraps, they were beautiful and shone even from behind the layers of make up and peroxide hair. She wore a white hoodie that covered her black Beano shirt that she had stolen from her boyfriend’s closet. Her skin matched the man’s complexion. Someone could’ve mistaken them for siblings easily if they didn’t know them. Her fingers were the opposite of his, short and almost pudgy. As his eyes fell on those hands, he was aware of their strength, aware of what they were capable of. Aware of how much influence the hands had on both of them.
She watched him, and waited for his response to what she had just done.
She was well aware of what the consequences might be. This man, his eyes filled now with confusion, was her boyfriend’s best friend. This was not only risking losing this man as a friend, but risking losing her boyfriend forever.
She watched him run his fingertip absentmindedly over the thick callus on his right middle finger. She had held that finger, held all those fingers, only minutes before.
Finally, his eyes met hers. The confusion was slowly ebbing away, and now he just held her gaze with a soft yet somehow fierce look.
It lasted for no more than 10 seconds, then he surged forward rested his upper legs against her knees as he kissed her. The force of his lips against hers was almost enough to knock her off her seat.
This was unexpected from the generally warm, gentle man, four years her senior, just like her boyfriend. He captured her lips again and again, until he had to breathe.
Then he laid his forehead against hers and breathed heavily as he felt those hands of hers pressed against the back of his neck. Her back was raised from the back of her chair, her waist trapped willingly in his arms.