Title: this feeling
Pairing: wenrene
Rating: PG
A/N: Inspired from first the 2 lines of "Bibliography of Strings" and the rest is carved out from fragments of my imagination, I guess.

And you taught me what this feels like.

A pair of slender arms encircles my waist and I feel her tiptoe before resting her chin on my shoulder. The warmth spreads from her body to my back and it courses throughout my entire being, I tingle when this fuzzy feeling reaches the tips of my fingers and my toes.

I sigh inwardly, my whole body limp, and yet my heart is surging and palpitating wildly. I've never felt like this before.

Her hands instinctively travel towards my chest, perhaps from hearing my heart beat vehemently, and I know she can feel the pulse of my heart beating, beating, beating right out of my chest.

She kisses the nape of my shoulder, my body growing more limp, my heart beating more wildly. I feel her grin against the skin of my shoulder.

"Your heart's beating pretty fast."

"Shut u-"

I try to finish my sentence but she then kisses my shoulder again and now I know she can feel also the goosebumps rising on every inch of my shoulder blade. I close my eyes and hear the thunderous thumping of my heart, my entire being giving in to her without qualms. I want to clutch my heart to tell it soften, to quieten down but Irene is doing it already for me. She is rubbing my chest in small circles that feel dizzily soothing. But my heart does not quieten down at all, and its thumping further increases in decibels.

This feeling is incomprehensible to me. This novel feeling where every thing I tell my body to do, my body does otherwise. I'm supposed to be frustrated at its obstinacy, but seeing the teasing look evolve on Irene's flawless face as my body responds the way she wants it to, I decide maybe I'll be happy with this feeling Irene stirs within me.

-----

We all have a pair of hands and they slide simply into the gaps of one another when in prayer. How do I comprehend that another person's, or more specifically Irene's hand, has a better match to right hand than my left, I do not know.

As we bask in the evening afterglow, our elongated shadows cast behind us by street lamps highlight the single entity our joined hands make. I toss my head behind to see our shadows, and I see us as a single entity, too.

It's not just our hands anymore.

I glance downwards, notice our clasped hands and the way her fingers slide so easily into mine but also maintaining a firm grip once she has gotten a hold on my hand.

Warmth spreads from her fingers to mine, as quickly, as smoothly as a perfectly connected telephone line, all the way to my heart where it strangely makes my heart beat lively, resuscitating it from its lackluster state whenever she is not around.

She entwines her other hand to my left and lifts both my hands above my head when we turn into a secluded alley. She presses her body into mine as I feel my back lean against the brick wall. Again, as usual, her body is buzzing with warmth. I think she may have become responsible for keeping me warm, keeping me alive. It's a nice feeling, knowing she is here to keep my heart beating.

My lifeline.

She presses her lips against mine softly and I feel our entwined hands clasp even tighter, our lips sealing, as if sealing a promise of being a single entity forever.

With a ragged breath, she breathes, "I love you."

So this feeling...
This feeling feels like love.

And then how it feels to lose it.

The room is swarmed with the deafening silence and the vast gaps where you are supposed to fill. I'm standing in the middle and chills run down my spine.

Funny, it's not supposed to be that cold with the heater on.

The room feels a lot more colossal when I'm alone. The kitchen feels further and the bedroom feels unreachable. Suddenly the place reeks of a mammoth silence and cold and hollowness that suffocate me, rendering me claustrophobic, ironically.

"SHUT UP!"

Still I manage to scream out, in a hopeless attempt to stop the deafening silence and emptiness from hollowing out the remaining life in my soul.

If I even had a soul or a life presently, that is.

The gaps in my fingers are no longer filled and the curves of my body are no longer fitted with the curves of hers. The emptiness these gaps create make me feel so small in the suddenly huge room, like I'm only a mere wisp of meaningless human life in the entire universe.

Instead, the coldness, the emptiness and the lack of life force themselves into my being, trying to mimic her way of holding me. But instead they suffocate me, strangle me.

Please hold my hand, please hug me, please kiss me and tell these monsters to go away.

These monsters revive my yearning for her, heightening my senses that call out to her for help, but to no avail.

These monsters come together to form a homogenous mix of loneliness that feels piercing. It cuts through my soul, my heart like a razor blade. It stings. But it doesn't hurt as much as it is supposed to. How is it supposed to hurt much when the most excruciating pain I felt was when you released your hold on my hand and with conviction, breathed the final word,

"Goodbye."

That was when all possible warmth left me, when my heart shattered into a million shards and hurt more than the wound a mere razor-blade could make.

So this feeling now...
This feeling feels like loss.