Triple Tone love

I'm mad about this song these days:

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Tamed

I let him look at me. All of a sudden I felt him there, in the doorway of my little kitchen, felt him looking at me, my skin tingling a bit where his gaze passed over me. I hadn't heard him coming, though I was very aware of him moving around the apartment, very aware of his presence there with me. Aware of him moving around, looking at things, taking in my home with all of his senses. I had been inexplicably nervous about him coming here, had cleaned up very thoroughly and tried to see my home as he would see it. Inexplicably; because I am not one to be fazed easily. And now he was standing there in the doorway of my kitchen looking at me. And I let him look without acknowledging his presence there; leaning casually against the doorway. Much to my surprise I let him look at me working, grinding coffeebeans or whatever I was doing. Refusing to turn my head, meet his eyes and break the moment, when I suddenly got the impression that he knew, that *I knew* he was looking at me...
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....

My brother and I were standing in the kitchen; him preparing dinner, I catching up with things and angling for red wine. "You might want to speak to Nephew about Uncle M." he says all of a sudden. Uncle M is my ex that I left back in February; he loved my nephews and they loved him dearly. And Nephew is very clever and has been asking anybody but me (see? very clever) about Uncle M. My brother has mentioned it before and I have given it some thought; maybe even hoping the memory would fade and the kids would stop asking. But today Nephew had been asked whether he had siblings and he had answered gingerly "I have a sister" (forgetting little new Nephew 3.0 there), and then he had gone on to mention his uncle H, his uncle C and his Uncle M. I looked at my brother for a while before I answered. "Yeah, well; I guess he's old enough". Nephew is 5. After dinner Nephew and I finished off the treasuremap we had been painting, and then went on with all his nigh...
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Soft

Our lips was millimetres apart. That second stretched into eternity, I with flared nostrils, taking in the scent of him, of his skin, his hot breath on my mouth and the soft darkness under my closed eyelids. Waiting. Waiting for that spark to fly, to feel the first softness of his lips against mine, eager, curious. Waiting, almost not breathing but the sound of it irregular in my ears anyway. Waiting for him to move ahead those last millimetres, wondering vaguely whether he was waiting as I was. And when he hesitated, it dawned on me that he might be doing the exactly same thing. Savouring the closeness, the scent of us mingling between our lips, taking me in before he kissed me. When he finally did, it was like kittens playing. Soft, playful, warm, fuzzy, endearing, too good to be true. Intense. After a while; a hint of teeth on my bottomlip, a promise of more to come, something where playful and endearing turn into urgency to hold on to, to cling to, to bite a bit. I could har...
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