ATTENTION: Stories marked with an * may contain material which would be better appreciated by those over 18. Parental Discretion is advised. This is your responsibility, not ours."What Is Real?"
The orb of moon shone bright that night
At the condo where she stayed,
Lights beamed out the windows
And music softly played.
The rhythmic beat of the music
Mixed with crickets loud refrain,
Added a new dimension
To Nikita's sole domain.
She'd dimmed her lights to rest awhile,
Her feet propped on a chair.
She wore a purple ribbon
Round her braided golden hair.
She was just relaxing
To the music's tender score,
When she heard a gentle tapping
By somebody at her door.
She smoothed her clothes and checked to see
Who happened to drop by.
Michael stood outside her door.
She opened with a sigh.
"Can I come in?" He quietly asked,
"I need to talk to you."
Nikita's eyes grew wider
And turned a deeper blue.
He walked into her living room,
With his usual graceful pace.
He raised his head and looked at her,
Eyes focussed on her face.
His glance caressed her upturned gaze,
And he looked into her eyes.
Her heart was pounding in her breast!
She waited for his lies.
"We can not hide this need we have,
This urge we can't deny.
It's obvious to everyone,
No matter how we try."
He gently reached his hand outright
Took her's inside his own,
And slowly brought it to his lips.
She surpressed a rising moan.
She withdrew her hand from his in time
To still her growing need.
She put a space between them,
So she could start to breathe.
"Until you prove that which you show,
Is how you really feel,
I can't believe a single word
Nor anything is real."
"Prove how much you care for me.
You must demonstrate,
By showing real emotion.
Then I'll reciprocate."
He stared at her with softened gaze,
A small hint of surprise,
And a look of admiration
Had now come into his eyes.
"You've learned a lot, Nikita dear."
"You've taught me well," she said.
"I wish that you'd believe me now."
She slowly shook her head.
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