Her Empty Heart

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Reminiscing a romance. A girl sits in her room one night and remembers the way she a lover touched her body and heart.

Submitted: March 16, 2012

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Submitted: March 16, 2012



Midnight. She sits in her room with the lights off and the bedroom window open, allowing the moonlight and night air to stream into the room. She climbs from the bed onto the window sill. She looks out into the distance in thought. She shakes her head and a few words escape her lips... She then utters a small sinister chuckle before continuing with "He was something"...

She begins to brush her hand over her thigh, remembering the way he used to. She suddenly moves her hand away. A tear escapes her right eye, followed by a smaller one from her left. It rolls down her cheek and onto her plump, moist lips. The lips he loved to kiss so much. The lips he used to bite and suck whilst slipping his hand round her face and pulling her close to him. A sudden cold wind from the window blows in. She begins to shiver as it blows over her chest. She draws her knees up close to her chest and rests her chin in between the nook of her breasts whilst wrapping her arms round her legs. Her breasts feel warm and the skin tender and she watches them move up and down as she breathes in and out. She longed for him to kiss them again. She remembered the way he closed his eyes whilst sucking and licking her nipples... The way she held his head in her hands and stroked his soft dark honey blonde hair... the way it sent shivers down her spine and caused her breathing to increase rapidly... the way it made her long for him to be inside her. She lifts her head and sits up, straightening her back and her legs. She stares at her feet. She wiggles her toes. She remembers the way her feet met together as her legs were wrapped around his body, him in between her, pushing himself deeper and deeper. The way she ran her fingers up and down the crook of his spine. Oh the love that they made. She began to think if there love were music it would sound the tune of the sweet sweet jazz and soul, reaching deep and touching the heart. The way he touched her heart.

She reaches up and closes the window before sliding down back onto the bed. She shakes her head again in confusion. She doesn’t understand. The way she's reminiscing the intimate moments she had with him when she knows she should be with him right now... Why is she alone instead of being in his arms? Why does her heart feel so empty?




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