I only have eyes for you.

Beginnings are always the hardest sequence in any story. The uncertainty and the wide vast open plain stretched out, lacking any preexisting path and certainly failing to map out any unfortunate defects that the scenery might secret away from prying eyes. The famous metaphor is a field of untrodden snow, unblemished and pure, but be careful where you place your footprints on the canvas for they'll leave an obvious mark. So it is also with another person. No one can ever truly understand the mind of someone else, just as that certain someone cannot see inside them in return. That being said, the first glance taken is that unruffled blanket of disarmingly bright snow, the face of whom you gaze upon holds no recognition or pockmarks of memory to discern them from any other faceless peer. It is interaction that will highlight your name in the database of an acquaintance. Humans have no way to convey feelings, thoughts and desires to each other, except words and actions. With words you can tell anyone what you want them to hear, but only the actions that follow can bring meaning to phrases. Some throw words around, choosing the use the shallow and one dimensional themes that they are based upon, but it is a dialogue that runs through a brain and that we call thoughts that is the true window to someones soul. raw emotion can always be vaguely expressed using sentences, and it is thoughts that make us feel the way we do. the questions that plague us are what drives the feeling from its hole in the base of our skulls and cracks the whip to make it rear its head and make its presence known.

it was a few simple words that turned her head enough to catch a familiar scent of something she wanted. Later the scent imprinted itself into the fabric of her brain in movements, a recurrent gesture or flicker of need that made the breath catch in her throat and something flicker, lower in her gut that felt like fear. Jumping off a bridge would feel that way, the sweet ecstasy of flying, and the lurching terror of falling into the unknown.

Love at first sight is too trite, too implicit of destiny and frankly unrealistic as pertaining to love and more indicative of lust or chemical attraction. But fate, although enjoying the same meaning as destiny, would be simply that what's meant to be will come to pass. Seeing him was

reminiscent of electricity, a crackle that snapped between them and coils around her neck, dragging her closer to you. she would say it was against her will, but every step closer was not one she would regret taking, nor would she choose to retrace it.

But enough of beginnings, their smugly vague implications are just the teasing of a slut that knows there is more to come but will escape your clutches until the hand that reaches is begging and rough. Eluding his advances was a game that may have later been the basis for the ultimate chase. of course upon being caught, it would seem she needn't have ran for so long. perhaps her legs should have given out voluntarily much sooner. and of course it was words that talked their way into her core. burrowing until the tunnels could not be collapsed without a back hiding place being readily available. He was so quiet that his written words were prizes to snatch for. and she searched for more underlying thoughts, motives, desires and needs underneath each syllable. later every gasped fraction of a thought was recorded, she must have it be her eliciting these breathless emotions wrenched from somewhere she could only rest a fingertip on. It became a competition to be the winner, the victor, the object of his desires.

her heart belonged to him long before the distance between them was closed. definitely before she was aware of the ownership herself, for if she had been, she would not so carelessly have bared herself to the jaws of the trap that closed around her. although sometimes it felt as if it was all she could do not to fling herself at his feet and beg. maybe the arms she held herself back with did not really equal the iron grip she believed it to.

by the time they finally crashed into each other, the impact was staggering and the resulting amoeba of arms and limbs was not like the beginning we all so despise, but an ending. not a brief drop into oblivion, but a finalizing answer that made more sense than the start of an unknown terminal disease.

an answer leads to peace and clarity, where a new expanse leads to discord, discomfort and doubt. Fears of what he might think, doubts that what she was giving him were inadequate were waylaid to make way for the rush and the fumbled movements in the dark. nerve endings sparked and even the second and third time, the excitement remained.

prey that doesn't play along is never as much fun to toy with before eating. perhaps if the black widow had a more stimulating mate, she wouldn't have to eat his flesh to erase him from her life after she gets what she wants. before she even acquired the prize, he was a more fluid partner than any clamoring for the position. having the element of surprise is the most captivating element anyone can bring to a relationship as anticipation is always better than the end result.

he must have felt it before originally stating it, unless he was unaware of his response to her goading and prodding, pushing and nipping. during an exploration of the opposite sex as a partner, he also found himself tied, but that is what maybe was so enticing about the body she could look at but not touch. pushing it to the limits proved dangerous, kneeling between his legs as he drunkenly slurred on the phone. a wink to her current partner before inching up the material of his shirt and sucking the skin on his stomach just above the waistline of his jeans. biting and pulling enough to leave a prominent mark. smiling up at him and filling her eyes with as much power as she could command before retreating. leave them wanting more right?

later after he had drunk his fill and meandered down to the basement with the pretext of using the bathroom, her boyfriend sat on the opposite seat from where it had transpired, but her pose was much the same. kneeling between another's legs, hollowing her mouth and sucking his cock, she could picture him, and what he would look like, if it was his dick she was running her tongue around. the knowing look in his eyes so similar in colour to hers was enough to send shivers down her spine.

but still they orbited each other, keeping a relatively safe distance between them, although seeing him gave her a feeling she couldn't quite place, as if it was something she had felt before and known well but had collected dust from a dreadful absence of touch. lying wrapped in one another, after imagining it for so long was much more comforting than the panic filled moments leading up to the reunion. was it only her that had these sudden new doubts where before there was a familiar emptiness when imagining being with another person? so easy it had been before to cast off lovers after she grew tired of them. black and white within the space of a second they could replace one mask with another and so she could write them off. love turns to hate so quickly once you sow the seed of doubt. but once they were together it was him who stood steadfast where she would have created dissent and turned his love to hate so that she may in turn throw his used carcass to the birds. looking at him she would soften, where she wanted to lash her tongue she held it firm, for fear that he would see inside her and find her wanting. each secret uncovered was like an open sore, but where she thought he would pack salt in her wounds he let them heal. too good to be true? there must be a catch, she thought, it was just a matter of time. strange too, seeing as the start of their union was merely a physical need. or so she told herself.

it was to be brief, but when the time came to a jarring halt it was too soon. it had seemed such a long time to be facing, but in its dying stages, the time apart stretched out wider and wilder than the butterfly wing moments they spent in each others company. "better to have loved and lost?" he said. but the loss was indefinite and gnawing and a cut deeper than anything expected. and the love still remained, burning with a painful flame.

absence makes the heart grow fonder, and upon seeing him again after a separation it was as though he never left, apart from the burst of feeling that returned after having lain dormant.when he left again the ache returned and with it the sinking feeling of the days lining up like dominoes for her to walk into blindly.

of course time passes, life goes on, the day to grind does not lose momentum for a simple cog. and of course in this day and age is it not true that we all go our separate ways? gone are the fantastical stories of leaving everything behind for the one you love. or maybe we are in an era of compromise? sacrifices are sweeter accomplishments when we get what we want in the end.

before his second departure, when she wanted to pound nails into him to slow his exit, they sat on the streetcar, quietly. she was so nervous. "i love you is all that you can say." but they are just mere words. she looked for an opportunity until her hand was slipped inside his.

"did you see that girl?"

"which one?"

"the pretty one." she said smiling lewdly and nodded in a general direction.

"no." he squeezed her hand and returned his gaze to the window.

and i too, have only eyes for you as the waiting game begins.