I have been trying to sleep, thinking about you. Your voice, how soothing, calming, relaxing and how I missed it hearing in this entire day, all day long I look forward to having these glorious night conversations with you, they are something I have been living upon, they are pretty much everything I need to wake up each day. I look at the fan and I look for a book to read. I pick one and as soon as I open the bookmarked page I read

When you looked at me with those limitless, deliquescent eyes of yours, I used to wonder what it was you could possibly see in me. Now I know that is a foolish view of love. You and I could no more not love each other than the earth could stop circling the sun.

I keep on reading about the love that is never lost, the feelings infinite, beyond the circumstances of implausible, I now miss you even more, and more words my eyes read about love, their immense desire to be with each other, I am just feeling your touch over my hands, from days ago, when I was in the same bed close to you holding your head under my hands, your hands in mine, stroking your hair, loving you from my soul, wishing to kiss you, your soft lips, caressing your neck, your cheeks, everything.

I close the book on my bosom and I want you here instead, your face on me, your lips in my mouth, savoring every inch of your skin, kiss those beautiful eyes, your gorgeous eyelashes. I am breathing so close to your face, and I feel my fingers near your ear, below the neck, caressing them slowly, feeling your soft skin, holding your hands, rubbing against yours, making me warm. My lips are pursed, wanting to kiss you and I kiss the ridge of your hands instead, and I look at you, you quiver a little.

I am imagining our little encounter and I just flush it away as I miss you more, rubbing my hands against the silk bedsheet underneath me, remembering being in your bedroom, feeling so wanted, to be in your arms and just hold you like there is no tomorrow, kiss your lips, the corner of your mouth, your eyes, your forehead, the dimples over your cheeks, the ears, the neck, everything sumptuous and kiss them all day.

I bite my lower lip, relinquishing you in front of my eyes, your bare skin on mine, being naked with you, under the sheets, clinging to you, your feet entangled in between my legs, your hands around me and on my bosom and lips on my lips devouring my tongue, making me breathless and I read on.

“He kissed her, and knew he was trying to tell her the depth of how he felt. Even as he lost himself in her, felt her hair sweep across his face, his chest, her lips meet his skin, her fingers, he understood that there were people for whom one other was their missing part.”

And I imagine you being the part of mine, whom I have been missing this entire time, waiting to taste you, hold you, feel you over me, your sensuous touch, your intense gaze, locking fingers with you, tickling you, smiling at you, looking into your lovely eyes, from that first handshake to the much-needed hug, how I have missed to be yours.

I sleep on the book, wishing you were here on my bed, with me, so that I could touch your chest and feel the heartbeats, wrap you in my arms, bite your soft ear gently, playing with your hair, moving my hand, over your sweet face, snuggling with you, moving my lips, on every inch of you, feeling you close, touching your lips with my fingertips, your legs with my feet pulling you close until the morning sunrises and I open my eyes to see you sleeping with your beautiful face in my arms, with you still naked and wrapped around me and not letting you go as I bask in your presence kissing your mouth to start my day waking up with you.

It’s 4:00 AM, and I can’t sleep. It’s like The Road to Madness, but I lie here imagining him next to you, his license to touch you, to hold you, and I would do anything to make that freedom mine. For as long as I can’t have you, I’ll conjure you here instead. Your scent, your hair, that slow sideways smile when something I say amuses you. Darling J, I’ve never wished harder for the dawn. Your Boot.

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Author: Onesha

She is the funny one! Has flair for drama, loves to write when happy! You might hate her first story, but maybe you’ll like the next. She is the master of words, but believes actions speak louder than words. 1sha Rastogi, founder of

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