“W-why,” she breathed, “can’t you talk to me? Why can’t you look at me?”
He ducked his head down to look into her face. His eyes, surrounding by lashes darkened with rainwater, were impossibly gold.
”Because I love you.”She couldn’t stand it anymore. She took her hands off his shoulders, hooked her fingers through his belt loops, and pulled him against her. He let her do it with no resistance, his hands flattening against the wall, folding his body against hers until they were pressed together everywhere - chest, hips, legs - like puzzle pieces. His hands slid down to her waist and he kissed her, long and lingering, making her shudder.
She pulled away. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Neither does this,” he said, “but I don’t care. I’m sick of trying to pretend I can live without you. Don’t you understand that? Can’t you see it’s killing me?”
“Kiss me then,” she whispered, and he pressed his mouth against hers, their hearts slamming together through the thin layers of wet fabric of her dress, made thin and clinging by the rain. It was almost like having his hands on her bare skin, her chest, her lips, her stomach; when he reached the hem of her dress, he gripped her legs, pressing her harder back against the wall while she wrapped them around his waist.
-City of Fallen Angels
(via likechildreninafairytale)
