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carmillaWARNINGS: Incest, some dark content.
~
It was always hard to tell where one of us left off and the other one started. We weren't just similar, we were in synch. We were each other's continuation - often, making some grand scheme, we didn't need to speak; I'd do one thing, and he'd do the next, following the natural progression. We could always finish each other's sentences; each other's actions, even. I knew him so well, could predict him so easily, that when I watched his gestures and it felt like moving my own hands. And maybe the greatest gift to me was laughter - to tell a joke and see my own smile growing on his lips.
Maybe that's why I can lie in bed and touch myself -
natural progression; I'd touch him here, he'd touch me there, inevitable and obvious and right
- and it doesn't feel like he's gone. It feels like continuity.
~
It was always hard to tell where one of us left off and the other one started. We weren't just similar, we were in synch. We were each other's continuation - often, making some grand scheme, we didn't need to speak; I'd do one thing, and he'd do the next, following the natural progression. We could always finish each other's sentences; each other's actions, even. I knew him so well, could predict him so easily, that when I watched his gestures and it felt like moving my own hands. And maybe the greatest gift to me was laughter - to tell a joke and see my own smile growing on his lips.
Maybe that's why I can lie in bed and touch myself -
natural progression; I'd touch him here, he'd touch me there, inevitable and obvious and right
- and it doesn't feel like he's gone. It feels like continuity.