Taking Shape

The bottle of wine had been empty for quite some time. I kept glancing at it every few minutes, as if Bacchus himself was going to descend from the heavens and fill the bottle to the brim. No such thing happened, unfortunately. Instead, I sat on the couch, hands folded neatly in my lap. I heard music playing softly from the kitchen, and deciphered the lyrics that were drifting my way.

The moonlight

Shines down interstellar beams

And the groove tonight

Is something more than you’ve ever seen

He stumbled out of the bathroom and over to the couch, sitting right next to me, but for some reason it wasn’t close enough. I felt like I was internally combusting. My skin was on fire and screaming for something. I was pretty sure I knew what my body wanted, but my brain had a drunken, yet firm lock on any and all lost impulse controls. For now, everything was in order.

“So.” He glanced around the room idly and finally his eyes landed in my general direction.

“Do you have anything else to drink?” That was my temporary solution to the problem, just to get more alcohol into my system. I couldn’t tell what outcome I was fighting for, since getting more drunk seemed counterproductive to the whole self control thing.

“Nope, I only had the wine this time around—“

And suddenly the grip I had on my control was lost and my lips found his in all haste. At first his body was stiff with shock, but the longer I kissed him, the less tense he got. Soon, we were an inebriated tangle of tongues and touching.

It was messy, in more ways than one. But as each hazy second passed, the consequences seemed to matter less and less. It was no longer a matter of wanting, but of needing.

Stars and planets taking shape

A stolen kiss has come too late

(323 words)