09-16-2018, 05:21 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-18-2018, 03:34 AM by Marcus DuBois.)
Her lips...she'd turned. His chest had enveloped her and her arms had hung low, unsure, and she was lost in the moment and then, finally, she turned into him...her arms around his neck, kissing.
Marcus let a little bit go. A taste. She had no idea.
Just a taste of him. And then, the fire in her ignites. She comes alive. And for a moment....she blazes. He smiles.
But this is new to her. She has to step back. And the needs of the body- air- outweigh- the needs of the body.
Marcus laughed as she pulled away. He knew. Recoup. Refresh. She was hungry. And she was unacquianted with this kind of hunger. She needed a moment.
Bearings. A check of makeup. And pep talk. All good.
You are pathetic Malik said. Marcus' nostrils flared. Shut the fuck up and let go. I am!, he told him. The laughter drowned out his response. You've never thought this hard. You always let me run it. Why not now?
Marcus had no answer. Why did he need control at this moment? He could be Malik. He would reach his goal. Why did he want to be Marcus now?
He shunted him away. Found drinks in the fridge. That would do. He looked around. Leaning towers of books. Astrophysics. Theoretical physics.
He pulled one, preventing the fall. Flipped through it. Mesmerized, he was captured again by the mathematical beauty that was this universe.
People thought math was numbers. Computations. Algorithms. Rules. No. No no no. Computers computed. Carried the one. Borrowed the ten. Moved the decimal.
They did not meet the multiverse.
It was patterns. Relationships. Connections. Mathemetics was not created. It was discovered. Explorers chancing on islands and archipelogoes, finding kinships with families from home. Learning the language of the universe.
Marcus seized the Force, his slave, and wove fire and earth and air. The flat was dark but for the ambient light.
The language of the universe....
Dots of light began to appear, again and again, a galaxy of stars hanging low and beautiful and drifting through the room.
He would give her the universe.
Candles were so cliche.
And one other thing. His wallet on the counter, the sound filling the room, soft and low, the slow back and forth of The Flamingos.
Perfect.
He smiled at her when she surfaced. Held out a soda.
Marcus let a little bit go. A taste. She had no idea.
You live once. Only once. The universe will have the priviledge of you only one brief time in its infinite life. Be proud. Do not be ashamed. Do not deny your hunger. A Sith denies nothing. But only as master.- Darth Peritia
Just a taste of him. And then, the fire in her ignites. She comes alive. And for a moment....she blazes. He smiles.
But this is new to her. She has to step back. And the needs of the body- air- outweigh- the needs of the body.
Marcus laughed as she pulled away. He knew. Recoup. Refresh. She was hungry. And she was unacquianted with this kind of hunger. She needed a moment.
Bearings. A check of makeup. And pep talk. All good.
You are pathetic Malik said. Marcus' nostrils flared. Shut the fuck up and let go. I am!, he told him. The laughter drowned out his response. You've never thought this hard. You always let me run it. Why not now?
Marcus had no answer. Why did he need control at this moment? He could be Malik. He would reach his goal. Why did he want to be Marcus now?
He shunted him away. Found drinks in the fridge. That would do. He looked around. Leaning towers of books. Astrophysics. Theoretical physics.
He pulled one, preventing the fall. Flipped through it. Mesmerized, he was captured again by the mathematical beauty that was this universe.
People thought math was numbers. Computations. Algorithms. Rules. No. No no no. Computers computed. Carried the one. Borrowed the ten. Moved the decimal.
They did not meet the multiverse.
It was patterns. Relationships. Connections. Mathemetics was not created. It was discovered. Explorers chancing on islands and archipelogoes, finding kinships with families from home. Learning the language of the universe.
Marcus seized the Force, his slave, and wove fire and earth and air. The flat was dark but for the ambient light.
The language of the universe....
Dots of light began to appear, again and again, a galaxy of stars hanging low and beautiful and drifting through the room.
He would give her the universe.
Candles were so cliche.
And one other thing. His wallet on the counter, the sound filling the room, soft and low, the slow back and forth of The Flamingos.
Perfect.
He smiled at her when she surfaced. Held out a soda.