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Oct. 22nd, 2006 07:37 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mipeltaja.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
onepieceyaoi100Title:My Two Loves
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 207
Pairing: unspecified
Topic: Senses (sorta)
Warnings:You got het in my slash! You got slash in my het!
Her scent alone is enough to make me feel like I'm walking on thin air. She is an ethereal beauty in possession of incredible skill, a goddess in flesh if ever there was one. She is purity, she is something to be worshipped, to be placed on a pedestal and showered with gifts. She is out of my reach; something I can never have but will never cease to wish for. And though I won't stop wanting her for my own, the truth is I am content to just remain near her, an eternal admirer, if that is how it has to be.
He smells of the salty wind and countless days under the unforgiving sun. To call him beautiful is to call a pine a rose, and there is nothing divine about him or the way his fingers dig into my skin as he breathes hot air into my ear. He has no grace whatsoever and worship would be wasted on him. Surely, nothing as primitive as the raw pleasure he can make me feel could ever be considered pure. And the best part is that he is as much mine as I am his.
I love them both and would give my life for either.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 207
Pairing: unspecified
Topic: Senses (sorta)
Warnings:You got het in my slash! You got slash in my het!
Her scent alone is enough to make me feel like I'm walking on thin air. She is an ethereal beauty in possession of incredible skill, a goddess in flesh if ever there was one. She is purity, she is something to be worshipped, to be placed on a pedestal and showered with gifts. She is out of my reach; something I can never have but will never cease to wish for. And though I won't stop wanting her for my own, the truth is I am content to just remain near her, an eternal admirer, if that is how it has to be.
He smells of the salty wind and countless days under the unforgiving sun. To call him beautiful is to call a pine a rose, and there is nothing divine about him or the way his fingers dig into my skin as he breathes hot air into my ear. He has no grace whatsoever and worship would be wasted on him. Surely, nothing as primitive as the raw pleasure he can make me feel could ever be considered pure. And the best part is that he is as much mine as I am his.
I love them both and would give my life for either.
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