passion verses combustion -- ROQUE

[ELIZA JOY LIEBERMAN]

Weak. Eliza Lieberman was weak. That was the only way to describe it. What else was she supposed to say about it? The first time she had seen Roque in more than just a fleeting way since they had ended it and.. Look what had happened. Was her resolve really that bad? Apparently so. As stubborn as she could be, it didn’t seem to translate to situations like this. It was like when she told herself she wouldn’t drink diet coke anymore. She always seemed so strong willed when she vowed it, but soon enough she was craving it and her resolve crumbled easier than it should have. At least she’d put up a bit of a fight with Roque.. Sort of. She’d told him to push off hadn’t she? That meant something.. Or it should. God. Weak. When she wasn’t kidding herself she would admit that it had been really easy for the man to convince her to sleep with them, and then spend the night.

It had been... Well. Damn. It had been freaken amazing. Eliza hadn’t been with anyone since breaking up with Roque, and as the man had said... it did kind of feel like coming home. Dammit. She hated that it felt like that. It wasn’t supposed to feel like that. Eliza had put a lot of effort into trying to neutralize any feelings she had towards Roque, but it seemed the man could easily have her come-undone. It wasn’t fair. At all. As far as she knew, Roque was just in it for the fun or the good lay or whatever the hell he was in it for. Yet there was Eliza, girl who became a complete mess at a few well chosen words and the mere smell of him. God. She was weak. She was a stupid, weak little girl who should have just kicked him in the groin and run away, never looking back. She was good at running wasn’t she?

Squeezing her eyes closed to keep the sunlight from invading her lids. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know where she was or what had happened. She could feel his warm, strong (and maybe a little hairy) arms around her, hear the steady beat of his heart as she nuzzled further into his vast chest, and smell the unique aroma of his cologne, the soap he used, and his natural scent. It shouldn’t have felt this good. She shouldn’t have loved waking up in his arms. This wasn’t just about Eliza anymore. If it was just her, and she wanted to keep running back to a volatile relationship well that was fine, that was her own choice and she was only hurting herself. Now though, now she had a whole new little life to think about and if she kept doing.. this.. well Eliza wasn’t the only one who was going to get hurt, and she just didn’t want to put her child through that.

Brushing her fingers across her stomach, Eliza swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. This was a bad idea, and she needed to leave before she made any more bad ideas. Pressing a gentle, sad, kiss to his chest. She was really going to miss his perfect chest. Trying not to make any noise, she sat up. Part of her felt a little guilty doing this, but the bigger part of her knew if he woke up she may not leave. Carefully, she de-tangled herself from the man before silently getting out of the bed. Crap. Where had her clothes ended up? Trying not to swear, she started to search her her clothes. Panties... Panties. Ha! Check. Quickly, she slipped her underwear on before continuing her search.

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[mel6]

He rolled in the bed, a look of malcontent stretched over his strong featured face. The space seemed to large, too empty.
He wanted it filled.
The farther he stretched his hand out, the more despair filled his heart. Was he alone? Truly alone?
Just when he was about to pull back, something brushed his outstretched hand. He grabbed at it, and with a single strong pull, brought it to him.
A soft, warm entity melded against his wide, naked chest. She was supple, and smooth. Her small, fairy-like hands dove into his hair, bringing him close, filling that empty space.
He felt his heart race, and for a moment, he knew happiness as she pressed her lips to his.

Roque awoke from his startingly vivid dream to the feel of his mattress shifting. Quietly, almost sadly, he watched Eliza Lieberman scrounge around his room for her underwear. When she found and slipped them on, she silently continued her search for the rest of her outfit.
She was going? But they had planned delicious, syruppy, illicit sex.
Roque and Eliza shared an odd relationship. While he usually would vanish before morning came, he'd never felt insecure about staying the full night at Eliza's. Since they argued constantly and since she was so intelligent, he knew she knew the score. She wasn't going to wake up to him and think she'd found love. All she'd see was a body from which she could gain a momentary explosion of passion from.
Why did that make him feel so empty? He thought of his dream...
No, no, it was nothing. Must have been something he'd eaten.

He wondered openly as he watched her. She was leaving. She was turly, honestly going. Maybe she had an appointment she'd forgotten about. She must've just remembered it just as she woke up. Of course. "Going somewhere?" He murmured, his english clear yet his dark spanish accent still clear. Truly, if he'd wanted, he could sound as american as the next guy-- but what was the fun in that?