Ace (HS)

Enraged*

Loving isn't always a soft caress, or the gentle pulse of the tide, that washes up in your heart and leaves behind beautiful mysteries for you to indulge in. Love isn't always the sweet surrender of one's soul to another; the merging of two polar beings; a connection that amid all of the nonsense of life, makes sense in its inexplicable randomness.

Love is just as complex as the people that fall for it.

Love is, at times, a raging fire that leaves behind soiled carcasses in its wake.

It is a sad sickness that robs you of your ability to cry.

It is when you wake up at 3 am and can just feel the ache in your heart, that longs for the warmth of another body beside you in the cold, empty sheets.

And then, after you think you have escaped the viscid webs, love will linger in the back of your mind, in the pit of your stomach. The tide will recede, and the fire will burn out, only for the smallest of things to call upon them again, to summon the love that you thought you had buried deep within yourself.

And you will be taken under once more.

****

Cold fingers trembled as they rummaged through the contents of her purse as she searched for her set of keys. The wind violently caressed the ends of her hair, the strands whipping her cheeks, and the sun that had been hidden behind the grey clouds for most of the day, was now settling on the horizon, a dull orange glow illuminating the sky. Her mind was as much of a mess as her purse, and it was hard to even remember where she was.

All she could think about was the warm presence of the person who stood a few feet behind her. His hands were buried in his coat pockets, and the merciless wind took its toll on his long curls as well. The cab ride had been silent and uncomfortable, the tension thick in the cramped space of the back seat where they sat with a good distance between them. It wasn't that they didn't want to be near each other, in fact it was quite the opposite; neither Carmen nor Harry trusted their eager hands, which were desperate to touch each other's skin and set their bodies aflame.

Her fingers felt the cool metal and wrapped around the pair of keys. She tucked her untamed hair behind her ear and the keys clang together as she opened the door.

The lights flickered on as she stepped inside, not looking behind her to see if her... company was following. As she heard the quiet thud of his boots against the wood floor, it was clear that he was.

"It's a bit small but I quite like living here," her voice uttered softly. Carmen placed her purse on the small table by the door, and finally turned her head just enough to steal a glance at the tall, brooding man. He stood just in front of the doorway, his hands still hidden in the pockets of his coat, and his eyes wandering around the small apartment. The place gave off a cozy, homey ambiance, the sweet scent of vanilla (Carmen made it a habit to light a few candles around the place every night) lingering in the air and a subtle warmth that enveloped their bodies. Harry began to shrug his coat off his shoulders.

"Here, let me hang that up for you," Carmen offered, like a polite hostess, and reached out for the coat as it slid off his broad back.

Their hands brushed against each other, skin against skin, as she grasped the coat. It was like a flood of relief washed through them; how many nights had they both laid awake in bed, fabricating the feel of the other one's skin against their own?

Too many nights.

Harry watched her with an unwavering gaze as she went to the small closet and hung his coat up inside. He watched as her shirt lifted up slightly as she reached her arms up, the soft skin over her hips being revealed to him. The reminiscing taste of her silky skin flooded his taste buds, and he wanted nothing more than to taste it again.