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Rated: E · Fiction · Romance/Love · #1411104
Short story. Green Day. Mike/Billie.
Main Entry: rape
Function: transitive verb
Inflected Form(s): raped; rap·ing
Etymology: Middle English, from Latin rapere
1 a archaic : to seize and take away by force b : DESPOIL
2 : to commit rape on


And you raped me, my love. Every day of my life, you've raped me. You don't even know it, but you do. You seize me. You take me away from myself with a force that I didn't even know was possible for you, or anyone. That you don't know to this day. You don't know I've been raped every day for twenty five years. But you cause it.

You rape me with that sweet laugh that rings through my ears for hours after it leaves your perfect lips.
The lips that smile with kindness so alike to the giggle that escapes them. Your laugh is so beautiful. It's better than the jokes that cause it or the sound of the rain on the roof as we sit on my living room couch. It's better than any laugh I've ever heard, because it's yours.
"What are you smiling at?" you ask, the giggles still reverberating through your speech as your eyes crinkle up.
And I tell you nothing. And you don't care. You don't even know you just raped me again.

You rape me with that crooked smile that makes a broken heart become euphoria.
The smile you cast after my lie. The one that says you already know. You know everything. And you smile so easily. Because you know how short life is. Because you know how to be happy when you can't see that I'm not. But that smile confuses me so that in the midst of my sadness, a delightful love shines through. Love for you. My angel with the crooked smile. I'm seized by it. Taken away to a world where you only smile because of me. Who knew anyone could be raped by a smile?
I did.

You rape me with that perfect voice that never leaves my mind, even when I'm talking to her.
Even as she calls on my phone, says she loves me, says she misses me, I only wish it were you on the line. Agreeing with all she speaks, I pretend it is. And you sit there watching me talk like you know that your own voice is still echoing in my ears, the giggle, the smile still set in my ice blue eyes. And as I set the phone down, you use that voice to make a joke about it all, inducing a smile from my own thin lips. I don't know if you're sure what it means. I don't know if I want you to.

Rape me through your musical heart.
It produced the song you play now. That beautiful, soft song no one else has heard. It feels perfect. Like you wrote it for me. But you don't even notice my stare as your eyes follow the strings to watch your own small hands clutch the guitar.

Rape me with your love.
For it isn't the kind I need. A concern you'd show for anyone. A love you share with the world in those songs written for me. And it makes you even more desirable, this beautiful, terrible love. I long for more of it even if only through your sweet care. I need it.
"Mike, what's wrong?" you ask as you glance up from your favorite guitar.

Rape me with your calloused hand.
The hand that touches my arm now, ever so softly, your concern flowing from it to me, showing me you care, a rape that hurts me more than ever now. But I can't make it stop. I can't push you away. The fact is, Billie, I need your touch. I may die without it.

And you rape me with your bright green eyes that stare through me as if I were a ghost.
I still remember my first sight of them. Like two beacons shining through a mane of brown hair on your ten year old face. I had never noticed a person's eyes before I saw your green ones. And I hardly have since then. Only your eyes can do this to me. Only your eyes I love.
But now they see me. They see me in every part of my being. In my love and lies and jealousy. Your eyes right now see only me, and for a moment I can't speak. And then I tell you nothing, and your eyes say they care. And your giggle is gone, and so is your smile. And your voice tells me you want to know. And your heart backs it up and shows your love in the delicate touch as your eyes continue to stare into mine.

And you rape me in your expressions.
As I finally tell you. As I finally show my heart to you. I've needed to for so long. Oh, Billie, don't look so scared. I thought you knew. But you didn't. And your smooth face contorts in your shock, and your voice expresses your love, which I didn't think existed, and your eyes well up in happy tears. You tell me you love me too. I am raped again.

And finally, you rape me in your kiss.
So soft and desperate at the same time, the thing I've waited for all this time. This perfect moment of happiness in which you finally know what you do to me.

You rape me, Billie. Seize my heart and take it away, no matter how I want to keep it. And you pull it out through this kiss and lock it in your own. And that is how we stay. Locked in each other's hearts with our laughs, our smiles, our tears, our music and love pulled forth through hands and eyes. And our perfect, beautiful kisses. You rape me, and you can never stop even if you try.

I love you.
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