American library books Β» Short Story Β» Passion by Shadow (best motivational books of all time .txt) πŸ“•

Read book online Β«Passion by Shadow (best motivational books of all time .txt) πŸ“•Β».   Author   -   Shadow



Writer:

Shadow1a
Title:

Passion
Genre:

Romance
Rating:

16
Word Count:

950
Disclaimer:

I own nothing, it's all Kripke's

*** Special thanks to my valued interpreter is: metalamazon


*** *** ***


Passion ...



... he is coming out of the door!

I could pick out his silhouette from 1000 others in the shade. I can see you! Almost stealthily he slides out of the half open door of the motel room, as if he was hiding something and glides into the humid, foggy night like a shade. Almost as if he was mildly ashamed, as if he was hiding something, a secret I don't already know, he walks along the gravel path leading to the road. One last time he looks back to make sure that there is nobody around.

You're alone, alone with me!

With his unerring steps he leaves the night behind him. Quickly he pulls up the collar of his leather jacket ... as if he could hide from me like that! I love the scent of that jacket. It feels so good - so soft but hard and indestructible. It is a part of him - has been for as long as I have known him.

He didn't even notice me. My sad look follows him and the rain keeps beating down on me. The cold and the fog surrounding me can't hurt me while I'm waiting here, dreaming of - him!

I know he will come back. He always comes back to me. Longingly I keep looking after him, while he - slowly vanishes into rain and night, and, almost invisible for me already, turns around the next corner.

I can't follow him.

I'm left with my memories, dreams and the certainty that he will find home to me.
But now?
I'm being torn apart by anger, sadness and even hatred. I can hardly stand the thought that he is in the arms of another one now. I can't prevent it.
No, it isn't hatred - it must be jealousy!
Does it feel like this? I am sure - at the moment he isn't thinking of me at all.

But that's him.

I will never have him all for myself. That is my fate - I will have to bear it until I break down. He stays away far too often at night. I can almost understand him. I know the weight he is carrying on his shoulders. I know of the gruelling work he and his brother do, unnoticed by most people. I can feel his pain and desire. I know all his secrets and I carefully keep them hidden - like he expects it from me.

Today he just wants to take his mind off things, get his adrenalin to work in other ways and feel a bit of human warmth. That seems to be what humans need most. Warmth!

Whe he will open the door of his motel room secretely tomorrow morning and go in silently and guilt-ridden to wake up Sam, he will already have forgotten her name. Yes, it is even possible that he won't remember the colour of her hair anymore. She doesn't mean anything to him - they all don't mean a thing to him.

He never forgets my name!

Of course I could be sulking and withhold myself. But I know what would happen then. With his strong and gentle hands he would caress me softly. His magic fingers are able to overcome any grudge that has overcome me, every malaise that has befallen me, almost like magic. He always knows what I need.

Just like I know what he needs.

We can spend hours together in silence, just listening to his beloved classic rock songs. Did you ever listen to Metallica at full throttle? Then you know what it feels like when the hard guitar riffs are vibrating though your body. When your heartbeat is getting faster and faster - until it is uncontrollable.
In these moments he is so close to me and I can feel him. I love every fibre of his body.
Every grain of dust the highway has left on his skin, is pure delight for me. We share the same passion!
He knows my tempers and he can get me agitated in no time. Nobody else can do that. The sparkling in his eyes when he looks at me is the greatest possible gift.

He doesn't have anything for the others.

But he will never forget me - a gentle compliment or a sweet little something he got at a fill up joint somewhere, it is only for me.

It's real love.

It's gotten late. The street lights are reflected on the wet cobblestone
The cold has got me in it's firm embrace and the rain has gotten worse. The drops keep beating down on me, while I'm waiting here. It feels like a drum roll of countless drum sticks - so loud and so strong.

Only a few more hours -

Then he will be back with me. I'm waiting in never ending expectation for the minute he comes back to me, when I'll see him again. I'll forget this lonely night and each and every one that will follow it.

I just can't resist him.

When he's looking at me with these greedy eyes, when I hear his throaty, loving voice with joyful expectation, when he caresses me gently with his hands, whispering compliments to me - then I'll do it again.

I will open myself for him and when I'm feeling him inside me - at that moment when we become one in a heated rush of numbed senses - then I'll know it once again: I'm his and he will never leave me. No power in this world can ever keep us apart.

Because I'm his baby -

my name is CNK 80Q3
I'm his black 1967 Chevrolet Impala

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Imprint

Text: Skizzen und Wallpaper by Shadow
Publication Date: 02-24-2010

All Rights Reserved

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