Joe Wordsworth
Logician
- Joined
- Apr 22, 2004
- Posts
- 4,085
Platonic. I've seen definitions meaning pure, spiritual, transcending the physical, and i've seen definitions that mean simply 'without passion.' With the given definitions you really couldnt call it platonic or not, but you could definitely say it wasnt without passion.
You didnt even have to see them together to feel it. You could see it in his face when he talked about her, hear it every time he said her name, you knew that this was one thing he'd gotten hold of and wasnt letting go. If nothing else, world, this was his glorious find, and he was broadcasting on all channels exactly how much he thought of it. You could see it in her face, when she checked her messages and you thought you heard someone singing a message, you could almost hear it in the purposeful way she avoided mention of him, tactfully avoided him, his town, anything associated with him, like this was some secret she'd happened upon and she wasnt letting anyone within 10 feet. This was just for her, to smile quietly and laugh about, a joy you didnt get let into, and something noone else could produce from her.
You'd see stolen bits of him all around her. A book full of forbidden things that she'd carried around for half a year scribbling in, that noone ever got to read, a teddy bear that traveled around the room, from a watchful place atop the closet, to a snuggly place in the bed, to the chair where he just presided over things in the meantimes, a shirt much to big for her, that she keeps hung up in the closet, a tie that's left in the underware drawer, dried roses and a stack of letters so many you havent counted hidden under the silk robes in her second dresser drawer. In his place you'd see, if you knew to look, gifts she'd given him, but mostly, you'd hear about her, you couldnt be close to him and doubt that she was someone important, that you may or may not meet someday.
Its not really sure, but you'd think they never planned it, when they finally just had to see each other, you wouldnt first off think they were being intimate, you may think it was just a platonic relationship...but you could see them talking, like sparks in the air, you could almost read the contact their eyes made. Sure they were in the room and interacting, but you'd never for a moment think she didnt know exactly where he was, or he wasnt listening to her voice play.
What you wouldnt expect though, would be what she was thinking. Every once in a while you'd see a pretty blush creep up her cheeks when he handed her a glass and she lingered too long on his fingers before taking it. You'd see her eyes glaze a bit and travel over his body before she came back to you and your conversation. you couldnt help but know what they wanted...but you could easily tell it wasnt the purpose of the visit. By now you should know the purpose for the visit, they are addicted. To each other, to the spark, to the passion they've caught onto. To the way they are both more vibrant, more alive when the other is near...they're eaten up with it, this need for physical nearness, even when they try to play it cool, well, you can see right through them.
What she was thinking. you wouldnt expect it, but he was likely the only person who could. Noone else can get in her head that way, and if you knew what they do behind closed doors - or in the living room even, well, you'd blush.
If you knew the trembling electric hells she went through before letting such odd words fall from her lips in a rush of wet excitement, or jsut simple love making, or the absolute sublime feeling of licking the hand that was going to punish her, you wouldnt understand, but he does. He knows the different gates to go through and how to coax her through them and it's possibly the best game in the world that they play, building up to release after release until this is not the same girl with the shy blush earlier. He's brought out something else entirely, and she's all his.
But the world you know about them has something in common with this other world they run to. It's absolutely dripping with passion.
You didnt even have to see them together to feel it. You could see it in his face when he talked about her, hear it every time he said her name, you knew that this was one thing he'd gotten hold of and wasnt letting go. If nothing else, world, this was his glorious find, and he was broadcasting on all channels exactly how much he thought of it. You could see it in her face, when she checked her messages and you thought you heard someone singing a message, you could almost hear it in the purposeful way she avoided mention of him, tactfully avoided him, his town, anything associated with him, like this was some secret she'd happened upon and she wasnt letting anyone within 10 feet. This was just for her, to smile quietly and laugh about, a joy you didnt get let into, and something noone else could produce from her.
You'd see stolen bits of him all around her. A book full of forbidden things that she'd carried around for half a year scribbling in, that noone ever got to read, a teddy bear that traveled around the room, from a watchful place atop the closet, to a snuggly place in the bed, to the chair where he just presided over things in the meantimes, a shirt much to big for her, that she keeps hung up in the closet, a tie that's left in the underware drawer, dried roses and a stack of letters so many you havent counted hidden under the silk robes in her second dresser drawer. In his place you'd see, if you knew to look, gifts she'd given him, but mostly, you'd hear about her, you couldnt be close to him and doubt that she was someone important, that you may or may not meet someday.
Its not really sure, but you'd think they never planned it, when they finally just had to see each other, you wouldnt first off think they were being intimate, you may think it was just a platonic relationship...but you could see them talking, like sparks in the air, you could almost read the contact their eyes made. Sure they were in the room and interacting, but you'd never for a moment think she didnt know exactly where he was, or he wasnt listening to her voice play.
What you wouldnt expect though, would be what she was thinking. Every once in a while you'd see a pretty blush creep up her cheeks when he handed her a glass and she lingered too long on his fingers before taking it. You'd see her eyes glaze a bit and travel over his body before she came back to you and your conversation. you couldnt help but know what they wanted...but you could easily tell it wasnt the purpose of the visit. By now you should know the purpose for the visit, they are addicted. To each other, to the spark, to the passion they've caught onto. To the way they are both more vibrant, more alive when the other is near...they're eaten up with it, this need for physical nearness, even when they try to play it cool, well, you can see right through them.
What she was thinking. you wouldnt expect it, but he was likely the only person who could. Noone else can get in her head that way, and if you knew what they do behind closed doors - or in the living room even, well, you'd blush.
If you knew the trembling electric hells she went through before letting such odd words fall from her lips in a rush of wet excitement, or jsut simple love making, or the absolute sublime feeling of licking the hand that was going to punish her, you wouldnt understand, but he does. He knows the different gates to go through and how to coax her through them and it's possibly the best game in the world that they play, building up to release after release until this is not the same girl with the shy blush earlier. He's brought out something else entirely, and she's all his.
But the world you know about them has something in common with this other world they run to. It's absolutely dripping with passion.
