You and I » Lip Gallagher [1] {EDITING}

»part 7 » deal with the devil

YOU AND I
part 7» "let me show you what we can be..."

     I was 11 when I first started to think that Lip's existence was cute.

     We were hanging out on the ripped up, abandoned couch that lived under the tall train tracks where we first met. We lit our first cigarette together. His hair was a messy dirty blonde, his eyes shinned like they were the stars, and his mouth was petite.

     I was 14 when I first started to hate Lip's very existence.

     We were walking down the hallway in school when he looked at me like I was scum when he heard I started dating Bobby Warren. His hair was a messier blonde, his eyes were dark like the bottom of the ocean, and his mouth was twisted in disgust.

     I was 16 when I first realized that I was crazy about Lip's very existence.

     We were going at it like animals in the alleyway when he looked at me like I was an exquisite painting while whispering sweet nothings in my ear. His hair was wild from the work of my hands, his eyes were low and filled with lust, and his mouth was attached to all the naked parts of my skin.

     I was also 16 when I realized I was royally fucked because of Lip's existence.

     The sex in the alleyway was the most exhilarating thing to have ever happened in my sad life. What we had done back there could only be described as one word: heaven. It was like we were on a different planet that had a population of two. Lip and I. In that moment, no one else existed. There was no such thing as war. There was no such thing as hunger. There was no such thing as poverty. There was no hate.

     There was nothing left except passion. Simple, pure passion.

     Sure, we probably looked like a couple of stupid ass kids boning like our lives depended on it in a cold dark alley but that's not what Lip and I saw. All we could see was each other. We were connected in more ways than we had ever wanted to admit.

     The sex wasn't just earth shattering, it was vicious. I could feel the sharp edges of the brick wall scratching into my skin leaving its mark. Lip was grabbing my thighs with all his might that bruises were bound to develop. My nails bit into his skin like I was begging to be closer to him. As close as I could get.

     We were a damaged wreck. Our hair were nests, our bodies reeked of garbage and sweaty sex while different parts of our limbs looked like we got into a brawl.

     But this was no accident. There was no alcohol here to blame. This was all us. Every part of us.

     Once we finished our sinful act, we walked in silence out of the alley and back towards the south. The tension was killing me. What we did back there was like a work of art. It was like surreal art, to put it in better terms.