There's pain still, unimaginable, and limits, of endurance, on the horizon, waiting to be reached. But she wonders if maybe she's not quite there yet, if maybe she's still a person here, in this place. And maybe he is too, she thinks, if anyone is, it has to be him and in that moment, she feels the spark of life flooding back into her. Infusing her with the reminders of those small human joys that drive all people on when reason tells them to stop driving. Want and desire and hunger and need. Basic. Intrinsic. Primal. There's something else too, on the edge of the rest, trying to push its way in. She resists it. It's blinding and warm and peaceful, but she isn't sure if she can let it back yet. It's still so soon. It can wait, she decides.
She seeks him out. Corridors that so recently seemed empty and gray are now teeming with people, clamorous and vibrant. She wants that. That vibrant exuberant feeling. She remembers it once, with Lee. He's in a hallway, reading papers, head down. She walks straight up to him and reaches out for his arm. It doesn't hurt. She's surprised to notice that nothing hurts. She remembers, all the rage, the blame, the betrayals. All their cruel words tossed like grenades, aimed perfectly to inflict the most damage. They are all still there, but they don't overtake everything else. She smiles up at him, grateful.
He's thrown for a moment. Confusion mars his face and he can't immediately hide the inquisitive quirk of his head. His eyes narrow as he attempts to read her. He opens his mouth to frame a question but she can't have that, doesn't know the answers to any of his questions. She stops him with her fingers, light but clear and gives him a look he knows well. A very purposeful look that the two of them have been perfecting over the course of years, tweaking and honing to just the perfect calibration of desire. It is usually telegraphed quickly though, so that it is easily shrugged of a one's imagination or across distances where space creates safety or in the presence of others when playing with fire had been too tantalizing to resist. But right now it's none of those things, its long and close and only them. Her intention clear. She feels it sink in, sees his eyes widen, hears his breaths deepen, feels his muscle tense beneath her hand.
For just a moment, he leans into her and lets their forehead rest against one another, exhaling in relief. But she's too far gone with needing. Her insides hammering and pulsing like too much electricity in too small a space. Grabbing his hand she pulls him to the nearest open hatch, a storage locker she thinks. She's not sure. Her mind is racing from his touch and she can feel the thud of her heart for the first time in months. Her only conscious thought is of his name, a mantra inside her blood washing through every part of her. For a moment he resists her pull, uncertainty filling him but another look in her eyes and he has enough answers. He follows her into the dark room willingly, unable to resist her any longer. After all, he thinks as he slams shut the thick metal hatch, there are limits to what human beings can endure.
Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-22 09:45 pm (UTC)She seeks him out. Corridors that so recently seemed empty and gray are now teeming with people, clamorous and vibrant. She wants that. That vibrant exuberant feeling. She remembers it once, with Lee. He's in a hallway, reading papers, head down. She walks straight up to him and reaches out for his arm. It doesn't hurt. She's surprised to notice that nothing hurts. She remembers, all the rage, the blame, the betrayals. All their cruel words tossed like grenades, aimed perfectly to inflict the most damage. They are all still there, but they don't overtake everything else. She smiles up at him, grateful.
He's thrown for a moment. Confusion mars his face and he can't immediately hide the inquisitive quirk of his head. His eyes narrow as he attempts to read her. He opens his mouth to frame a question but she can't have that, doesn't know the answers to any of his questions. She stops him with her fingers, light but clear and gives him a look he knows well. A very purposeful look that the two of them have been perfecting over the course of years, tweaking and honing to just the perfect calibration of desire. It is usually telegraphed quickly though, so that it is easily shrugged of a one's imagination or across distances where space creates safety or in the presence of others when playing with fire had been too tantalizing to resist. But right now it's none of those things, its long and close and only them. Her intention clear. She feels it sink in, sees his eyes widen, hears his breaths deepen, feels his muscle tense beneath her hand.
For just a moment, he leans into her and lets their forehead rest against one another, exhaling in relief. But she's too far gone with needing. Her insides hammering and pulsing like too much electricity in too small a space. Grabbing his hand she pulls him to the nearest open hatch, a storage locker she thinks. She's not sure. Her mind is racing from his touch and she can feel the thud of her heart for the first time in months. Her only conscious thought is of his name, a mantra inside her blood washing through every part of her. For a moment he resists her pull, uncertainty filling him but another look in her eyes and he has enough answers. He follows her into the dark room willingly, unable to resist her any longer. After all, he thinks as he slams shut the thick metal hatch, there are limits to what human beings can endure.