Protected: Letter 1
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Good Morning
The soft yellow glow of the morning sun filtered in through the curtained windows of her room. The light danced gently on her face as a gentle breeze shifted the light fabric of the curtains, slowly rousing her from her restful sleep. Her eyes opened first, the first thing catching her attention was how lovely the curtains looked in the morning; how they further softened the sunlight streaming in through her usually-offensive window. She was glad for her decision to put them up.
A slight movement next to her made her shift her hazy attention from her window to her left side, finding first tousled dark hair covering a tan face resting on her pillow. The sight made her face warm, and her body deliciously giddy with a strange happiness and contentment she had only had the pleasure of feeling once in a while. She became slightly more awake, then; remembering all the things that happened after the curtains were put up, her face even warmer by the time she forced herself out of her reverie. She was his, and knowing that little fact made her happy to the tips of her very satisfied toes. Making little movement, she carefully lifted her hand to lightly brush away his hair from his sleeping face, a fond smile slowly growing on her lips as more of his countenance was revealed to her. That she was lucky was all she could think of in that moment; just watching him breathe in and breathe out the same air she was breathing, sleeping in the same bed as she was. She let her gaze wander as her mind did, absently wetting her lips at the sight of his bare arms and chest, remembering how each mark appeared to be here and there before sighing as the sheets covered the rest of his body.
She smiled. No doubt she had similar marks on her skin; as accepting as he was of her, she had been of him as well. A soft sigh escaped her as she stretched languidly, careful not to stir anything too much, not wanting to disturb him.
But she felt a hand smoothly sliding across her bare abdomen, and sure enough when she turned her head, his sleep-filled eyes steadily met her own. A soft smile was on his plump lips, and she couldn’t help but return one of her own as he gently pulled her close to him, his hand slowly snaking to her lower back as she rolled onto her side to be closer to him. Their lips met briefly, almost shyly as they silently greeted each other in the soft light of the morning. Her hand strayed to his chest while his steadily rubbed slow circles on her skin just above the curve of her buttocks, soothing a small kink she didn’t realize she had until he touched it. She mewled softly in appreciation, and she heard him murmur in return.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“F-F-F-Fair.”
My old Psycho prof was right. There is no such thing as “fair,” not in an environment where every little thing that changes puts it out of balance. But is trying to make it as close to “fair” the main component of being human? Is it so hard to accept a concept of “fairness” in an unbalanced environment?
If a robber is caught by the police, but the person he robbed from didn’t want to press charges, would it be fair to the other people he had stolen from? If a mayor’s daughter was murdered, and the mayor insists on putting all the police efforts on catching the killer, would it be fair to the other families whose loved ones were murdered by other people?
There are rules against this, of course. But the human component of insistence, persistence, cunning, and that particular habit of picking which rules apply to oneself steps in to ensure that one gets what one desires. It is this very thing that fucking pisses me off.
How can one stay objective and fair if things are taken into personal account? How can one’s judgment not be clouded when personal “feelings” are at stake (especially that most annoying thing called pride)? Every little thing is a personal matter in one way or another.
I am so incredibly confused and annoyed.