Disclaimer: I don't even own myself; I am merely my muse's slave.
Dedication: Remyslove, this whole craze is your fault, but I love you for it.
'See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!'
- Romeo 2:1, Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet
She looks like a nymph as she stands beneath the falling water, savouring its warm caress as it touches her as no living thing can. Her wet hair clings to the sides of her face and neck like a possessive lover. She raises her arms above her head, affording me an almost unobstructed look at her perfect body. Turning her head, she smiles at me through the translucent material of the shower curtain.
I blush as I am caught looking, she merely giggles and opens her arms, inviting me. It is not an invitation I care to turn down. I step into the shower and reach behind her to pick up the body puff. She sighs as I run the puff sensually over her body. The unspoken knowledge that I will never be able to touch her marring the moment. I envy the body puff and tell her as such, she looks deep into my eyes and I know that even if I cannot touch her body I have touched her heart.
She moans as I run the puff over her torso with intent, soon, however her skin becomes too sensitised and pain begins to over take the pleasure. Taking the puff from me she gives my body the same treatment as I had given her body.
We step out of the shower and I wrap a large fluffy towel around her and hold her close. She sighs and pulls the shower curtain between us and kisses my through the flimsy material. A sad smile crosses her face and pain reflects in her eyes for a second as we move apart. I feel my heart break.
She slips into the bed next to mine and sorrow once again clouds the beauty of her features. We cannot even share the same bed for fear of her touching my unclothed skin. I feel a sudden anger that the all-knowing Professor can't or won't help her.
I watch as she sleeps, her face angelic and seemingly vulnerable without her heavy make up that she hides behind by day. I promise you, ma chere, that one day I will find a way to touch you.