#holytouch

[tarunkantho]

নতুন ষড়যন্ত্র ও কাদিয়ানীদের পোষ্টমোর্টেম | খতমে নবুওয়াত । bngla waz2020 ...

[tarunkantho]

সূরা আর রহমান, (الرحمن) -মন জুড়ানো তেলাওয়াত || Hafej Ziaur Rahman || H...

[tarunkantho]

সিংগাইরে আসছে শাইখুল হাদিস আল্লামা মামুনুল হক ।

দারুলহিকমা ওয়াল ইরফান সিংগাইর, মানিকগঞ্জ-এর উদ্যোগে মুগদার হায়দার আলী হাইস্কুল এ্যন্ড কলেজ মাঠে আগামী ২৪ ডিসেম্বর মঙ্গলবার ২য় বার্...

দারুলহিকমা ওয়াল ইরফান সিংগাইর, মানিকগঞ্জ-এর উদ্যোগে মুগদার হায়দার আলী হাইস্কুল এ্যন্ড কলেজ মাঠে আগামী ২৪ ডিসেম্বর মঙ্গলবার ২য় বার্...

[wilhelmina-goulding]

We got hollow hearts and heavy heads.

Thursday morning. I stood in the bathroom, delicately combing my hair. I’d straightened it and my hair felt sharp enough to cut glass. I reached into my makeup bag for my eyeliner. In a brief swish I traced a line above my left eyelid and out with a flick. Perfect cat eye. I did the other. They weren’t perfectly identical but I was glowing. I had opted for a nude Matt lipstick; and a natural smokey eye. I didn’t just want Will to be happy to see me, I wanted him to feel fucking hungry at the sight of me. I had a pair of black skinny jeans on again, and opted for black docs this time. It had rained last night and I didn’t want to risk slipping on wet leaves today. I pulled a long knitted black jumper on over my torso. I pulled it down to cover my lace black bra. Okay, so I may have persuaded mum to take me shopping after school yesterday. I’m not sure she was expecting me to pick lace, but I saw a raised eyebrow and prepared myself for questions. Mum said nothing Tuesday night, I guess Will was right: Mr Thompson didn’t notice my absence at all. I put my iPod music on shuffle and walked out into the cool Autumn air. The Cure’s ‘Friday I’m In Love’ filled my ears, and happiness filled my heart.

“Thursday I don’t care about you...”

That is where Robert Smith was wrong. I do care about you, Thursday. I wished everyday was Thursday. I had never been so pleased to be going to school.

We never talked about where we would meet or when. The 9am bell rang and I walked into Room 8 for English. I looked around the room and figured Will must have ditched because he wasn’t there. My heart sank a little and I slumped into the seat behind my usual desk to the left, second row. Mr Thompson started talking about themes of subservience and roles of women in the 1800s, my eyes glazed over while I wondered where Will was. Mr Thompson put a tape in the VCR in the corner of the room. At least I could get away with paying absolutely no attention today. It was Pride and Prejudice. A film about romance was not want I wanted. Twenty minutes or so passed. Boys and girls in my class started whispering and giggling and I snapped out of my trance and looked up. Mr Thompson was snoring slightly. People were talking about sneaking out of class. There was an annoying tapping to my left. I paid it no mind until the guy who sat behind me tapped my shoulder. I looked towards the windowed wall and saw a leather jacket, dark hair: holy shit! It was Will.

He was sitting on the window ledge, beckoning, his hair wild in the breeze. Stunned for a moment, I grabbed my backpack and walked to the windowsill. They were old style Victorian windows which required you to pull strings to slide the large window up. I slid the ageing tall middle window up to expose a two-foot tall gap. I sat on the ledge and swung my legs through the gap. I leaned back and then swung the rest of my body round so that I lay directly under the window; a Final Destination moment if ever there was one.

Will took my hand and pulled me the rest of the way through. I saw him look at me and hesitate. Our fingers were interlaced. He took off and pulled me with him. He sure was pretty forceful with me; I can’t say I didn’t like it. I ran to keep up and the excitement of running away with my gothic crush was not lost on me. We ran and ran and I couldn’t stop giggling. We got to the fence and he grinned, cupping his palms in anticipation of my step. I pushed off with his help and jumped down on the other side of the fence. He followed suit and we locked eyes, trying to catch our breath. My chest moved markedly up and down as I searched for oxygen. He stared at me intently; for a moment I swear I saw hunger. I wanted to drive him crazy; I bit my lip slow without lowering my gaze. In one urgent swoop his mouth locked on mine: hot, desperate, wet, ready. He held my hands either side of my head, pinned to the fence, kissing me deeply and passionately. His tongue eagerly exploring my mouth. I kissed back with force and bit his bottom lip gently. He put his hands to my sides, pulling my jumper up slightly to allow his fingers under the fabric. His long fingers tracing patterns up and down my back. I turned my face to the side and broke our kiss, the two of us breathing heavily.

“...Hi” I giggled nervously in between breaths.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he said in awe.

I blushed what I can only imagine was a deep red and I looked down to the ground. I was nervous but excited; shy but exhilarated. He wore vans today, skinny jeans, an Alkaline Trio shirt and a leather jacket. My gaze travelled up his body, taking in every detail I could, until I reached his face. His eyes agleam, bright green in the daylight, the tiny dark shadows under his eyes where his pencil eyeliner had smudged. His parting, and where his medium length hair waved in out and until it rested upon his shoulders. Without thinking I reached out to stroke his hair, pulling a stray lock gently behind his ear, to frame his face. I could feel the word ‘love’ on my tongue but refrained from attempting to speak. It had only been two days, he would think I was crazy. His lips parted as if to say something, but he looked down and said “come on” and took my hand. It was as though he decided not to say what was on his mind; I was curious. We walked much slower this time, hand in hand towards our spot by the river.

He slipped an arm out of his leather jacket, placed in on the damp ground and sat next to it. He’d laid it down for me. I sat down next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. We sat in silence for a while, watching the water. He sighed a couple of times, as though he was lost in thought and struggling. I looked at him for answers.

He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and lit it between his teeth. Placing the lighter back in his pocket, he exhaled deeply. Smoke curling around his hair and then dissipating into the air. He gazed ahead. “It’s been, what, two days? I can’t stop thinking about you.” He took a drag of his cigarette. “It’s driving me crazy”. He pursed his lips to breathe the smoke back out. I thought about how many times a day I wonder what he looks like naked, and responded “I feel the same. When you weren’t in class this morning I didn’t know if you’d forgotten about me”. “Like I could” he said sarcastically, chucking the cigarette, grabbing my waist and pulling me on top of him. He lay on the ground as I knelt, a knee either side of his waist. He sat up, putting his large hands on my thighs, and paused... his face inches from mine. “Fucking kiss me” he demanded. I put my hands on his shoulders and forced him back to the ground, kissing him passionately. My body shivered and ached, teenage hormones awake. I didn’t realise how much I wanted him until I found myself grinding my hips into his. I felt him stiffen beneath me and gasped, looking down. Hands to my waist he lifted at my jumper, pulling it up over my smooth skin. With a hand I pulled it over my head without regret. Sure, I was a little self conscious, but his hungry eyes dissolved any worry I had about my body. I dove down, kissed his throat, turned my mouth to the left side of his neck and started to bite gently. His breathing became more ragged. His hands on my back, he began to fumble for my bra clasp. I froze in terror. He looked up at me. “I... I’m not ready” as soon as the words left my lips I was overcome with sorrow. I wanted him, all of him, believe me, but I was not sure I was ready to let him see all of me or to let him inside of me. My aching body was angry at me and my heart hurt. I’m climbed off of him and sat next to his jacket, pulling my jumper back on, tears starting to form in my eyes. What if he thought I was boring and didn’t want to hang with me after this? From behind he curled his arms around my waist and put his head softly on my shoulder “It’s okay, we don’t have to, I’m just really into you. I’m sorry if I went fast.” The tears were already making tracks down my face. I turned to him and gently pressed my forehead to his chest. He held me tight as I buried myself in him. We descended to the ground side my side; my head and hand across his chest silently, lulled into a soft sleep.

▪️▪️▪️

[wilhelmina-goulding]

I’ll meet you in the river down below.

We walked out of one of the many building entrances, and towards the hockey field.

“Um... where are we going? I was beginning to hesitate. A day ago I hadn’t even had a conversation with this boy, and now he was leading me out of school to... “Where, exactly?”

He slowed his pace as we walked across the field. His long legs served him well and he was quick and sleek in his movements while I dragged behind a little less gracefully. “You’ll see” he smiled knowingly, reaching into his pocket to pull out a cigarette and placing it between his teeth. He had straight, perfect, almost gleaming pearly teeth. I thought about how much I would love to be the cigarette in his mouth, more accurately, I just wanted to be in his mouth. It would feel warm, and wet. My eyes glazed over; where was I? We were at the edge of the hockey pitch next to the school fence. We looked at each other. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He grinned as though he’d predicted my reaction. “I’ll help you up?” I looked down at his open palms and decided to throw myself into the task. I didn’t want him to think I was unadventurous. I placed my right Converse low top in his open palms and pushed off, climbing the harsh metal fence with surprising ease. Second leg over and I jumped down. Will followed almost immediately. He had cat like movement. Quick, sleek, deadly. I wondered how that would serve him in the bedroom. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and held it to the cigarette between his lips. He breathed in and exhaled the smoke. The light grey patterns unfurling from him into the open cool air.

Beyond the fence was an array of colours: red; orange; brown; green. Autumn was in the air and we walked through trees; dead leaves crunched underneath our feet. “Here” he beckoned. Through a parting in the trees lay a little stream. Following it down I realised it met a river down below. It was picturesque to say the least. We descended and stopped by a collection of three tree stumps, presumably where three trees once stood proud. I perched on one and as did Will, sitting close to me but with enough distance for me to happily gaze at his pale visage.

Removing his cigarette with his fingers and tossing it into the dead grass he looked into my eyes. “You heard the new Distillers record?” I held my knees to my chest, getting comfortable. We talked for hours. I found out he and his friend Ian jam on the weekends. Ian plays guitar and Will sings. I told him I’d love to see them play, but he said they were working on finding a bassist and a drummer. His favourite album is AFI’s The Art of Drowning. I told him mine was AFI’s Sing The Sorrow. His favourite song is The Last Kiss. We talked about veganism, about how songs on the radio sounded contrived and soulless, about bands we wanted to see live. It felt so good to spend time with a kindred spirit; to be able to be myself unapologetically.

“Dammit! The time... my mum is gonna kill me!” A sudden panic washed over me. What if school called home to report my absence? What if my mum asked where I’d been? What would I say? Would she ground me?

“Woah, it’s okay, I’ll walk you home.” He put a hand on my shoulder and I froze. His touch resonated through my body. His hands were big and his shoulder broad. I wondered what it would be like to be held by him. I bet burying my head in his chest would feel like heaven. “I can’t... I, I have to go.” I couldn’t bring him home. Not today of all days. ‘Hey mum I ditched school today on the same day I met a boy’. I bet that would go down reeeeally well. I turned to run and felt his fingers close around my wrist. “Wh-“ my words were silenced with a kiss. His lips so soft. My hands on his chest. (I didn’t even know how to kiss. Was I okay at it? Could we stay like this forever?) His lips opened and I felt his tongue across mine. Gentle but he meant business. His hand on the small of my back traced up my spine and stopped at the back of my head, fingers tangled in my hair. I leaned in closer. I wanted to feel his body against mine, I wanted to run my hands along his hips. I slid my hands down his chest and hesitated when I felt his belt buckle. I looked up. He looked down. I let out an awkward and embarrassed giggle, and he laughed in response. “I really have to go...” I said begrudgingly, as I turned my back and stepped away. I couldn’t look at him, or I would never leave. He leant forward, his lip brushing my ear, “Thursday? We can pick up where we left off”. I began to walk away but jokingly glared at him from over my shoulder. He laughed silently. I couldn’t pretend to be mad at him assuming I wanted to ‘pick up where we left off’. I wanted him. He wanted me. It was just a matter of time.

▪️▪️▪️

[wilhelmina-goulding]

You keep me up at night, your tiny light won’t fade.

Southampton. I mean... who even likes it, right? It’s just this tiny little city where nothing exciting happens. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but return. It held so many memories for me. For us.

I think back to myself at sixteen. I was so in love. They say you don’t know what love is at that age... but I did. His name was Will. I’d seen him around school and he’d caught my eye. Tall, skinny, intimidating. He was this beautiful dark shadow in an otherwise sea of dull grey. He wore his medium length box-dyed black hair down, touching his shoulders. He wore a band shirt over his mesh long sleeved top, always. He was evidently into punk music. He has a Misfits skull shirt, and an Exploited one, so I figured I was kinda justified in my judgement of Will as a “punk boy”. Skinny jeans. Worn black Dr Martens. Chipped black nail polish. Every time I saw him I felt a wave of warm wash over me. I felt overwhelmed; lightheaded, almost. He was gorgeous... and I wanted him.

2003 the album that defined my life would be released. I was a lonely girl; head-in-the-clouds type. I had friends but the friendship was fleeting; forced almost. They were no more friendships than they were alliances with girls much more normal than I, as some form of distraction before I could leave this school, and this town, for good... or so I thought. Make friends with popular girls; it’ll stop you getting picked on. Life lessons. What they didn’t tell you is how fucking boring you look in your goddamned mini skirt and cami top. Popular boys loved flesh, but I didn’t want a popular boy. I got home after school, switched the TV onto Kerrang and flung myself dramatically onto the sofa. Dad was working til late; mum would be home in an hour. I had sixty minutes to fill my brain with as much angry music as I could. I caught the end of Left Behind by Slipknot. That video always grossed me out, with the forgotten boy eating his Cheerios with rotten milk. I turned to the kitchen in disgust to grab something to drink, and that was when I heard it. It was like nothing I’d seen before. The sky a bleeding red; falling rose petals onto a forlorn and gothic heavily-tattooed man.

“I’ll lay me down tonight, much further down.

Swim in the calm tonight, this art does drown.”

I was enthralled. The colours of turquoise and pink a beautiful contrast to the dark. Beautiful lyrics that focused around loss and despair. It was almost like I’d finally found someone, something, that understood me. As the song ended, the credits flashed briefly: AFI - Girl’s Not Grey. Thus continued a lifelong love and obsession with the band known as A Fire Inside. I ordered merch from California, which took two achingly long weeks to arrive. I received my order in a large cardboard box; inside was a slim fitting black shirt with a black kitty in the middle. Around the cat was an orange circle that read East X Bay X Hard X Core. Fuck, I felt so cool, as I slid the shirt over my torso and paired it with a pair of black skinny jeans and black Converse high tops. I was ditching my ‘normal’ look for what I felt was my ‘inside me’. The one that had been hidden for too long. School that day was weird. People treated me a little different. Gazes lingered; expressions confused. I headed up a staircase in the far east of the school building, barely used. At least I could head to English class without another asshole staring at me like I wasn’t quite human. As I ascended I heard a snap. “Fuck!” I yelled as the metal clasp holding my bag closed popped open, with all kinds of period literature spilling onto the steps around me. I knelt to gather my hair brush and my hello kitty purse (who said alternative girls couldn’t be fucking adorable?) when a pale outstretched hand offered me my copy of Charlotte Bronte’s ‘Jane Eyre’. I looked up and inhaled sharply. Amused by the gasp that threatened to escape from my throat, two beautiful green and brown, hazel, eyes pierced my soul with a coy smile that preceded the word “Hi”.

“I mean... it’s a great book until you get to the predictable ending.” Gorgeous and well read. Clean up on aisle three, please. My face flushed pink and inside I scalded myself for hesitating mid-step. I sat down on the step where Will was perched, knees bent and legs wide. “I almost wish he’d died and Jane inherited his fortune... and then spent her days drinking absinthe and destroying the patriarchy”. Oh, God. Too much? Would he think of me as a book-nerd? A misandrist burning her bra in anger at a male-dominated world? Honestly, if he’d thought of me in my bra... “Oh shit, you like AFI?” Snapped out of a would-be erotic daydream by Adonis himself. “What? Oh, yeah, they’re my favourite. Rumour is they’re doing a one off show in London in a few months. I really need to go”... “Seriously? London? Man, I’d fucking kill for that show”. There was no mistaking the Cheshire Cat grin that filled his face; his eyes sparkling with interest. My expressions mirrored his delight. Mostly, I was just happy to be noticed.

“Heading to English class?”

“Yeah... Mr Thompson will be pissed I’m late.”

“He’ll never know you’re late if you don’t show up.” His pale pink lips curved into a coy smile.

“I could be persuaded to ditch...” I spoke slowly, my movements deliberate as I reached over his lap to grab my iPod, and placed it neatly in my bag, “...what’s in it for me?”

He stood abruptly; “The pleasure of my company!” he announced proudly. He towered above me, skinny legs close enough to touch. I followed them up with my eyes; I felt as though I were observing the stairway to heaven. Here he was. Lucifer, come to tempt me with forbidden fruit. I didn’t need to think twice to know that I would bite the fuck out of that apple.

“Ugh, is that all?” He looked taken aback, eyes wide. My pretence failed and I giggled. I sensed relief in his eyes, and for the first time I noticed a faint attempt at pencil eyeliner on his lower waterlines. Grabbing my wrist and pulling urgently he whispered “I know a place”.

▪️▪️▪️

[v3nusinleo]

7/7/17 • • • 🖤 #holytouch

[hollywoodgreen]

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