Intrigue, that special sensation in the mind that works that is tickled, by the sensation of another being brushing up against your soul. Your nerve endings screaming for that feeling, an addiction...
Remembering the look on his face, the feeling of his arms coming around me, kissing me, that first bit of fire coming to the surface.... Raging into flame, a flame that's lasted for years, sometimes dying into embers but ready to be reignited by a few words. Fanned into a roaring flame.
This could be the last of my season, how could I turn away.
Intrigued, most curiously, unable to explore to the fullest extent. One night, tracing the phoenix with my fingers, set on fire by him. Guilty pleasure on wings across miles and miles it comes over me, sweeping my senses in, Intrigue...
I belong to someone else, but mentally I am free, and while my heart embraces the one I belong to, it clamors and rises to the one I do not belong to. Sinful, deliciously so. No longer a child, but recognizing what I recognized years ago. I hesitate at other words, but the only word that has ever been fitting to this fire, is Intrigue.
