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Opia: The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.
These days it was rare they did anything together. She was so busy and he didn’t know how to catch her. There were few times she’d spontaneously appear, catch him off guard and off his feet just like she always managed to do.
He was down on his back, shirt unbuttoned and tie thrown over his shoulder. She was straddling his lap, her blouse bursting at the seams as she ran her hands up and down his chest.
His throat felt tight as he let his head drop to the floor, staring into her face. Who was this woman now? She was so different than the Song he knew, that he remembered, maybe the Song he thinks he remembered never existed and she was always this... person.
She raised those sparkling eyes and caught his glance, never letting go. Clawed nails scratching up his skin and wrapped that tie around her fingers, Coiling it tight and tugging it close to her chest.
Her gaze was piercing, hypnotizing and Archer felt paralyzed. Unable to move or look away. She could see the doubt in his thoughts, in his memories, he was sure of it. He didn’t want her to know. To see his doubts, but he couldn’t say it. He couldn’t speak it.
“Archer...” She breathed, dropping her lips against his. “It’s just me.” A quick kiss and she pulled back, rolling her other hand through her hair.
It was like gazing at another woman. Her eyes were soft again and he could see her unease. Acting on instincts, thinking that doing this- what she thought he wanted, she got what she wanted. Comfort. She was shaking.
Slowly he laid his hands on her hips, urging her to stop. “I wish it would be... just you.” He whispered, keeping that stare.
