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Night. Days. They each pass by one after the other without thought. Seemingly no different than those before. However, those in-between moments that escape our friendship? I've not found they leave me longing for more.
I can’t say I miss Yelena. She is here by my side in one way or another. Talking. Laughing. A bright light that shines near me despite the darkness she fights. If only I could make her smile the way she makes me.
It's a desire. An itch. A feeling similar to the craving I get for my bow when I'm stressed. Though how can the stress be my hope to ease hers?
Smoothing the lines out of the corner of her beautiful eyes so they match her round cheeks? Flawless and untouched despite a lifetime of fighting. It's a gesture that's far too intimate I know, but it's better than the kiss I'd like to place on them right?
Whether it be hours or days, the time that spans between us only reminds me of my love now. Not only Yelena herself, but the physical and mental sensation that comes from the depths of an emotion. An emotion I hadn't touched since I was sixteen.
I'd never realized that's what it was before. The gravitating. The allure. The natural urge to never stop talking even when she would raise an eyebrow at me.
All the awkward flushes under her firm gaze make sense now. It was like one of Clint's arrows going off when the dots suddenly connected. Explosive and enough to knock me off my feet. The fact I survived with the ability to continue to talk to her is a miracle.
How much I miss her presence? How much I miss her texts? The way I wait for them unknowingly, eager for the moment I may hear from her? Maybe love truly is blind.
Life has its own heartbeat when we are together. I recognize that now. Even when the woman is covered in blood that isn't hers, or when there fire is burning in her eyes, all I can feel is the hum of happiness.
In summary I am lost. Completely and utterly lost to an emotion I can't seem to control. Trust me I've tried because at times I've actually felt the urge to ruin our friendship. Give in to the idea of being lovers instead.
What would it be like to sit close enough together on the couch that she can rest her head on me? What about holding hands going down the stairs before pulling her out into the chilly fall air? What would it be like to just be us, but more lingering touches? Pet names that would send me soaring?
Only a few things exist that Yelena doesn't know about me after so long. Very little I find myself keeping from her, yet telling her this is beyond my abilities. Thankfully. Granted the weight that would be lifted, sounds like sweet relief.
Sometimes I think she knows. I know she knows how her words get to me. At the very least she has to suspect the way they make my chest flutter against my will. The banter. The teases. If I allow myself to indulge I call it flirting.
Nights. Days. I cherish them all, the way I cherish our friendship. So I will carry the burden of my emotion, albeit poorly. Alongside the dreams of my tongue tracing her skin.
Still even after all these words. After the reminder to myself that friendship is the base of all lovers, and that she knows how much I care without saying I love you, the urge to push back her blond hair and kiss her gently on the lips is there. Maybe I can hide in those in-between moments? Though I am scared with her training that she will still find my love no matter where.