Summary: Emma watches, Shal wants, Emma fears, and Shal loves...
Notes: a series of drabbles inspired by the Evanescence song Haunted...
Warnings: Femmeslash. (Uh - duh?)
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Watching me...wanting me...
I can feel you pull me down...
Fearing you...loving you...
I won't let you pull me down...
-Haunted by Evanescence
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I) Watching... (Emma)
She's Beauty personified in motion - all leonine grace, tanned skin, fearless determination, and every inch a woman...
And I? I want to run my fingers through that mane of blonde hair and feel those muscles play under my touch. To kiss those smirking lips, bury my head between her thighs, and finally know what she tastes like.
I want to hear her scream my name as she comes - scream it so loud that all of Sanctuary hears, and knows that it's me driving her over the edge...
What I want doesn't matter, because she doesn't want me, and never will...
II) Wanting... (Shalimar)
She's watching me again. I can feel her eyes boring right through me like she's staring into my soul.
She thinks I don't know how she feels, that I don't know how much she wants me.
She doesn't know I've memorized the way she moves, the way she smells - like lavender and sandalwood. Or that I dream about the way her scent changes when I get too close, turning into this mixture of fear and lust that makes the Feral in me scream to be let out.
So I watch and I want, never knowing exactly why I can't ever do anything else...
III) Fearing... (Emma)
Shit! Shit! Shit! I've pushed her too far this time, I know I have. I don't know when things got so tense between us, but they're finally about to explode.
I wince as she slams me up against the wall, swallowing hard as I stare into flashing yellow eyes.
"Shal, please... I'm sorry..."
The world screeches to a complete halt at the sudden feel of her lips on mine, and her hands pulling at my clothes.
What follows isn't gentle or slow, but it's the only thing weeks of pent up emotion could lead to, and I just give myself to it completely...
IV) Loving... (Shalimar)
She falls into my arms with a cry, like a puppet with cut strings, still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm.
My legs give out too at the sudden realization of what I just did, and I sink to the floor under her added weight.
"Oh God... Emma... I'm so sorry..."
She wraps her arms around me. "Don't be. Wouldn't have let you if I didn't want it..."
Her voice is still shaky, and I hope it's only my paranoia telling me it holds a note of fear.
"What *do* you want, Emma?"
She pulls me closer, kissing me gently. "Just this, Shal. Only this..."