Rootless Tree

Part 1

He stared at her as he stood just a small distance behind. Even with such space between them, her scent enticed him, beckoned him toward her, yet he fought against the almost animalistic like lust that churned within him. Her white gloved fingers rounding the edge of the balcony's railing as her chin lifted to look out to the navy blue shaded harbor as the night sky robbed the ocean of its sapphire colors. Even the stars seemed to sense the uneasiness within the air, staying hidden behind the clouds that offered sanctuary to them so often. They offered no light upon the situation, no reprieve from the stagnant air that now seemed to hang above both of them, lingering like an unwanted and ill-timed thought. Her body language reflected that confidence she held within her very being, one of the many reasons he had loved her so. She held steadfast to her will. Even in such a moment, her strength never seemed to waver. He stepped closer as he had so many times before when they had stood in this very place, though the circumstances were much different.

Slyly removing the space between them, he guided one hand along to the front of her stomach over the silk fabric of her gown, the light ridges of her stomach muscles greeting his palm as it rose and fell in step to her breathing. The material pressing between his digits in a way that tickled his senses. His other ventured upwards between her small breasts, his fingertips briefly teasing the flesh through the cloth during their journey to her porcelain throat. She whispered a gasp, a sound he enjoyed forcing from those rose-tinted pink lips of hers. It made him feel like he was freeing a tiny part of her into his very own aura, submitting and surrendering to him. Leaning in, his nose parted her golden white hair and he inhaled deeply the scent that had just moments before taunted the primal being that his lust has become. He let it greet his nostrils and encompass his entire being, like taking a hit of a drug just to ease the urge of the addiction. Any space within him that felt empty now was comforted.  She did not move, like the doll he called her she would only move to his will. She acted lifeless to his touch. He cradled her in his arms, rocking her gently like a mother coddling a child before turning her slowly. She moved to his command like a puppet, her eyes refusing to greet his as her face hung towards her shoulder. He released her neck to twist a curl between his fingers, like a weaver lucky enough to touch spun gold, admiring and adoring the priceless treasure within the tips. He then followed the features of her jaw until he was holding her face in his palm. “Love me…” His voice in a near whisper, he almost whimpered…but she would not return those words.

Slowly his passion began to burn inside him, churning and bucking in protest. Anger becoming his deadly advocate. He pushed her face away, almost like he was too ashamed to hold it within his grasp any longer. His touch not as soft as it had just been, the frustration easily making itself known by his body language.  He no longer wanted to look into her eyes. The haunt of the truth was too much to bear for him.  Why could she not love him? He questioned himself. How much more of himself did he have to tear away and suffer before it was enough? Enraged, he snatched her face back to his, his voice no longer sweet but hard and harsh, the venom of his animosity lubricating his words. "LOVE ME!!!" he screamed. His tone was rough and gravely, the anger blanketing what was desperation just moments before.  She closed her eyes trembling beneath his touch, feeling the hostility radiating from his body, bitterness emanating from his tongue. "Can you not love me?" He asked in such a way that his voice was more quiet now and as if he truly could not understand yet wanted to. The downward inflection of his tone indicated his confusion and thirst to comprehend. He looked to her with the last lingering glimmer of hope in his dimming orbs, a question of final desperation. His sanity was teetering on him being able to fathom her emotions. Gently he caressed her face as he searched for her answer. He silently examined her every move, down to the tiny hairs that stood up on her neck. She at last opened her eyes, as the tears fell like liquid diamonds. Let his doll speak. Let her words, so kindly wash over him and restore peace to the now broken home of chaos and mayhem.