Wild Wolf

Love, they say, is most vivid in the moments of separation. As I lie awake in the depths of night, the ache of her absence weighs heavily upon me, enveloping me in a shroud of solitude. The hollow emptiness of the hours stretches before me, a vast expanse of time in which I am left to wrestle with my own thoughts and demons.

With a heavy sigh, I rise from my bed, the cool touch of the floor beneath my feet grounding me in the reality of my solitude. Pulling open the drawer of my bedside table, I retrieve a sketchbook and a set of pencils, the familiar weight of them comforting in my hands.

Outside, the sky hangs heavy with darkness, devoid of the soothing glow of the moon. Yet, despite the absence of its gentle luminescence, the stars shimmer with an intensity that seems to mirror the depth of my longing. I watch their mournful dance from the window, their brilliant sparks of light a poignant reminder of the love that binds us across the vast expanse of distance.

Settling back onto my bed, I open the sketchbook, its pristine white pages illuminated by the soft, yellow glow of the lamp beside me. With pencil poised between my fingers, I begin to draw, each stroke of graphite a testament to the depth of my devotion.

Lines blur and merge as I lose myself in the act of creation, the images flowing effortlessly from the depths of my imagination onto the blank canvas before me. I do not need to seek inspiration or guidance, for her image is etched indelibly into my mind, a constant presence that guides my hand with every stroke.

Drawing becomes my sanctuary, a refuge from the ache of separation that gnaws at my heart. Hours slip away unnoticed as I lose myself in the act of creation, the only measure of time passing the steady rhythm of my breathing and the scratch of pencil against paper.

When at last I lay down my pencil, exhaustion heavy upon my limbs, I am struck by the realization that I cannot recall exactly how many hours have passed. Yet, despite the passage of time, the image that stares back at me from the pages of my sketchbook is worth every fleeting moment of the night.

The moment my fingers ceased their dance upon the once pristine paper, I was struck by the stark transformation that had taken place. Where there had been emptiness, now there was darkness—a deep, velvety blackness that seemed to swallow up the very essence of the room. Yet, amidst the ebony expanse, there was a single, glaring anomaly—a patch of white that demanded attention.

I could not tear my eyes away from it—a figure emerged, rendered in stark contrast against the inky backdrop. Two heads intertwined, legs entangled, arms wrapped tightly around necks, and mouths locked in a passionate embrace. The drawing seemed to pulsate with an otherworldly energy, illuminated by the flickering flames of my imagination.

A surge of desire washed over me, igniting a fierce passion that burned within my veins. My throat felt raw, parched with longing, as the heat of my yearning threatened to consume me. Every fiber of my being cried out for her touch, for the intoxicating rush of pleasure that only she could provide.

With trembling hands, I traced the contours of the drawing, my fingers dancing across the page as if guided by some unseen force. I delved into the depths of my imagination, envisioning her presence beside me—a vision so vivid, it felt almost tangible.

The night stretched out before me, a canvas upon which to paint the wild fantasies that danced in my mind. In this solitary hour, when the world slept and dreams took flight, I longed for her with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

I imagined her in my room, her skin glowing in the soft light of the stars above—a tantalizing vision of raw desire and untamed passion. Like a skilled artist, I yearned to explore every inch of her canvas, to trace the contours of her body with tender reverence and ignite the flames of ecstasy with every caress.

"Think of an idea, Arthur," I whispered to myself, my voice barely more than a hoarse murmur as I surrendered to the intoxicating allure of my deepest desires.

Every night, I would whisper those words to myself, a silent mantra that echoed through the darkness as I wrestled with the overwhelming desire to be near her—to catch a glimpse of her, to feel the brush of her lips against mine.

Through the long, restless hours, I devoted myself to the singular task of finding a way to bridge the distance between us. My mind buzzed with possibilities, each one more tantalizing than the last, as I searched for the key to unlocking the door that stood between us.

And then, with the dawn of a new day, I gathered my resolve and set out to make my dreams a reality. Gathering my books, I embarked on a journey to her doorstep, the anticipation thrumming in my veins as I anticipated the joy of seeing her once more.

As I stood before her door, my heart pounding in my chest, I knocked—uncertain yet hopeful. To my astonishment, she greeted me herself, her radiant smile illuminating the doorway like a beacon of light.

"Hi, Arthur! What a pleasant surprise," she exclaimed, her voice infused with genuine warmth.

"Yeah, thought I'd surprise you today," I replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.

Her laughter filled the air, a melodic sound that echoed through the hallway. "Great, great, come in, please," she invited, gesturing for me to enter.

Following her into the living room, I took in the familiar surroundings with a sense of wonder. It was a rare occasion for me to find her alone at home—usually, it was her mother who greeted me at the door with a warm smile.

"Where's your mom?" I couldn't help but ask, curiosity getting the better of me as I scanned the room in search of her presence.

"She's having a kitty party with her friends, so she won't be home until around 5 pm," she explained, settling onto the sofa beside me and meeting my gaze with a soft smile.

"Well, that means I got lucky today," I quipped, a playful grin playing at the corners of my lips as I bit down gently on my lower lip.

A blush tinted her cheeks as she glanced away, her attention momentarily captured by the books I had brought with me. "So, how much have you completed?" she asked, feigning interest in the pages before her.

With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I replied, "A lot left, I'm afraid. I'm not sure if I'll manage to finish before the vacation ends."

But her response caught me off guard, her unwavering belief in my abilities melting my heart. "Oh, I know you can do it, and you'll do it before time," she reassured me, her words dripping with sincerity and affection.

Oh, how innocent she is, I mused inwardly, a surge of desire coursing through me as I longed for her touch, her kiss. Her encouragement was sweet, but what I craved was the taste of her lips pressed fervently against mine.

"I can do anything with your help and love, baby," I murmured, leaning closer to her with a hopeful smile.

But as I moved towards her, she suddenly recoiled, placing a gentle hand on my chest to push me back. Confusion clouded my features as I watched her retreat, her focus returning to the books before us.

"What's wrong?" I inquired, my disappointment palpable as I shifted back, waiting for her explanation.

She hurriedly diverted the conversation, asking about the difficulties I faced with certain questions. "Chapter 5, mathematics problems," I admitted, my disappointment lingering despite her attempt to change the subject.

She flipped through the pages, her focus unwavering as she tackled the mathematical problems laid out before her. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her, captivated by the sight of her furrowed brow and determined expression as she delved into the task at hand.

"Is it clear to you now?" she inquired once she had finished, glancing up at me expectantly.

I nodded, though my attention remained fixed on her, unable to resist the urge to drink in every detail of her face. "Yeah, that was an easy one," I replied absentmindedly, my gaze lingering on her features.

"Really?" she challenged, meeting my gaze squarely.

"Yeah," I affirmed, a hint of mischief dancing in my eyes.

"Then why did you come here?" she questioned, her gaze searching mine for answers.

"Read it in my eyes, and you'll know," I whispered, the intensity of my desire simmering just beneath the surface.

The tension between us was palpable, the air thick with unspoken longing as I awaited her response.

"Grant me permission to come closer to you, else it will take my life," I pleaded, unable to contain the desperation in my voice.

Her expression shifted, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in close, her lips brushing against my ear as she began to chuckle softly.

In a moment of impulsive reaction, I reached out and pushed her back, the intensity of her gaze replaced by a mischievous twinkle as she burst into laughter.

"Relax, I was just testing your patience," she teased, her laughter contagious as it filled the room.

For a brief moment, I was still, processing the realization that she had been toying with my emotions. But then, a sense of relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but join in her laughter.

Finally, understanding dawned upon me, and I resolved to play along, embracing the playful banter that had unfolded between us.

I pounced on her like a wild wolf, my hunger for her palpable as her back collided with the soft cushions of the sofa. I loomed over her, a predatory gleam in my eyes as I drank in the sight of her beneath me.

"Now, I'll test your patience," I whispered huskily, my breath hot against her lips before I captured them in a fervent kiss.