The Beast in His Eyes

Posted: February 7, 2015 in Short Stories
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A/N:  This was written to mentally deal with some bad people I hung out with in my late teens.  It’s about 10 years old I suppose, I wrote a lot back then, helped me deal with life.

Soft sweeping hair, too much alcohol again, she attaches herself to him like some sort of limpet. He’s strong, funny, reassuring, and well…different.   She wants him to take advantage. He wants to. She knows. He’s not drinking; he thinks she’s forgotten that he’s completely sober. She doesn’t care. She’s lost herself inside somewhere; someone else is controlling her moves now, a flurry of lips, arms, hardness, softness. Passion takes over she forgets who she is what she wants and just goes with it. She doesn’t think, she just moves.

He smells so sweet a mixture of cologne, hair gel, shaving cream and that intriguing smell that every guy seems to have. Control is his mistress; in front of his friends he’s dramatic, romantic. Sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to his circle of friends. But she sees the beast lying dormant in his eyes, longing to rip out and take over. When they leave his beast attacks, devouring her very soul. His body so taught, hard and unforgiving. The sheer weight of his body on her makes her wild, her ribs ache, her hips hurt, her stomach cops the metal of his belt with each hard thrust. I’d like to repeat this sequence, she thinks, preferably in a bed next time.

Passion is her mistress. It’s in her everyday, she fights with her mistress, but sometimes passion takes over. Leaving her puzzled, and endlessly confused. She prays to God then, asks him why she always ends up like this. They feel so good, him and his beast, the beast is handsome, funny, strong and dramatic, just like his owner. But she wants more than his lust, more than his handsome body, she wants his soul, his love. She sees the beast in his eyes and knows that he will never give her his love.

Anger takes over then, she grabs at anything, his hair, his hips, claws at his back, rips at his neck with her teeth. As her anger cracks they lock eyes, her furious beast roars in his face. She flips him onto the car seat; it was her turn to dish out the pain. Between angry thrusts rakes her finger nails down his chest ripping skin and making his beast howl in pain. She cuffs him sharply on the cheekbone to shut him up. She is livid, doesn’t understand why people always screw her over. She wants nothing more than to choke him till his body and eyes are life-less. He just wanted sex. That’s it! Isn’t she more than an object of pleasure to anyone?! Her beast wants to scream in frustration, instead she is engulfed by a large wave of pleasure, knocking her beast solidly out.

She opens her eyes to see, not a beast, but a frightened little boy staring back at her. The beast has retreated back into his eyes not to be seen for a long time. Her burst of anger has rendered the beast inactive for quite some time, it shall not be seen for many a year. This scares her. She has done this to him, hurt him is such a way, part of her cares, part of her wants to apologize for what she has done. The majority of her never wants to see his face again. She quietly gets up and seats herself on the passenger’s side. He drives quietly back up the hill staring at her the whole time. She does not look his way. She can’t stand to.

She gets out and stands beside her friend. They say their goodbyes; he leans forward then and lightly kisses her cheek. She looks at him then, straight in his eyes. She knows then that she no longer wants a part of this, any of this. She will start a fresh new life when where she can look herself in the mirror, smile and be proud of who she is. Because never again did she want to see his eyes, as she saw all of herself that she hated in those eyes…those big green eyes…

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