Those luminance blue-colored eyes taint innocence, hypnotizing the body into a frantic state.
By tantalizing their gaze mutinying religious morals and loyalty, they vow to make me ponder my beliefs and resign.
It suffocates me, holding my lungs tight as I struggle to breathe. It rattles my bones, burning through my veins, sending them aflame. This desire vanquishes my drive to revolt.
Those eyes keep me awake from my contemplative mind and remorseful fantasies.
Why must they visit my dreams and appear in my thoughts every waking moment?
Why must they impede my daily routine, canceling events and errands? While pondering my beliefs, I try to understand how these emotions corrupt my mind and body.
For far too long, I've been pursuing answers and consulting with numerous psychologists, specialists, and psychiatrists who can't cure this formidable lingering condition.
Those eyes that I fear but crave scratch that sensitive spot on my brain, sending a ray of tingles down where a sacred place hides behind respect and religious promises.
I discipline myself each time I reach a limit in consideration and temptation. What drove me to these outbursts of impulsive actions and disgraceful desires?
I grope within that place, unconsciously begging for permission. Still, every time I reach that pleasure of release, I remember flashbacks from congregations in which my parents smile at their son and praise my achievements of loyalty to the lord.
Those eyes. Those captivating blue-hue eyes soothe but intimidate my whole being. I've suffered for months from its gaze, surrounded by pale skin and pretty pink-tainted lips.
They watch as my pupils dilate, curious about the honey-brown hair. The overlapping curls with shorter sides and longer strands falling against the forehead make me question my beliefs and sexual orientation.
I never in my twenty-three years would have believed that I had taken a liking to the timid brunette male at my church.
~~~
The sun peaks above the horizon through the white-sheer curtains dancing to the rhythmic wind.
Gabriel wakes from the clammy fabric, creasing in spirals of folds. He snatches the covers off his sweating body, the fiber damp from the heat and his hazy, bothered dream.
He groans in frustration as he yanks the duvet off the bed and drags it to the laundry room.
The humid morning dew lingers in the atmosphere, with the surging fog crawling before dawn.
The cold wooden floors creak beneath body weight as Gabriel makes his way towards the kitchen, scanning through the pots and pans before selecting.
He cracks two whole eggs in the buttered pan, watching as the heat increases, making a sizzling noise.
While outlining the fried egg, he senses a tickling sensation against his calf, peering down and finding a ball of white and black fluff before him.
"Hey, Alice. Are you hungry, girl?" Gabriel coyed softly, leisurely strolling towards her food, pouring it into her bowl as his house phone rang.
He picked up the old-fashioned phone, connecting to the decrepit telephone line in his cheap neighborhood, pressing the phone against his ear, and playing with the telephone cord.
Hello?" Gabriel asked, anxiously twirling his finger around the telephone cord. He could guess who was on the other line—someone he respected, a person he cares about but does not love.
He confronted his inner turmoil with this person, but they ceased the conversation before it even began. They presumed that his agony was something nearly a flaw in his faith—an excuse per se.
Nevertheless, he continued feigning his bittersweet love towards them to conceal any uprising outrage.
"Gabriel, finally, I've been trying to reach you for hours now. Where have you been?" an agitated voice yells through the phone.
"I'm sorry, Mother, I slept in," Gabriel stated, his voice on the edge of apprehension while rubbing his tired eyes.
"That's no excuse. Do you know what day it is? She questioned, getting more agitated by the second.
Word count: 664
