The Better to Taste You With Ch. 01

Oh my god, she cut her hair. It's a lot shorter than before, well its different but I like it. Her hair is so bouncy especially when she walks back toward the house after getting the mail; almost as if she's expecting that one exciting letter that will forever change her life. I'd love to touch her hair, just hold it in my hands while I kiss her. I know its smell, I stood behind her once in line at the convenient store, I'm surprised she didn't feel me breathing on her neck. I inhaled that scent, the mixture of her perfumed shampoo that gives off such a very distinct smell and the Apricot/Oatmeal scrub she uses on her face in the morning, it captures me.

I breathed in so deeply and tried to hold it in, to savor it- but more over to keep from blowing her away when I exhaled. I had closed my eyes to keep it for a second, and was shook back to reality by the clerk calling me. My mind reeled at finding her absence so quickly, and I cursed myself for wasting my time with scent when for the moment I had sight and possibly an accidental touch.

Although I could go on forever about the air that surrounds her, for now I won't. I'll descript more about why I found her. Background is always nice when it comes to a good love story, and I do love her. Don't ever confuse what I feel for lust or obsession; to do that would dirty the story and you would miss the point. So we'll begin with how I found her...

She's an amazing writer, and I first read her writing via a free web-hosting site on the net. The site is of no importance, but thanks to that page and her posting a small bit of her work on her main profile, and then to my delight, a link on where to find more; I became a part in this wonderful winged ride that is her life. I was absolutely addicted after the first phrase, and every word after that was just another high that I could reach. I loved everything she wrote, I was transfixed, and I like the way it felt. It was like with mere words she grabbed and you held you deep into the night. If you woke up lonely, you read one of her poems that included the words, "I love you", and you felt like somebody in the world really did.

I have lots of her work just collected in a notebook, a large purple binder with green dragonflies on it; I know she would approve of it- it's two of her favorite things. I know lots of stuff about her though, more than just what she tells people about herself, I know because I watch. I was rewarded with the gift to see all that goes on her life.

Oh at first I was like any other man that read her stuff online, but when she stopped coming online, stopped giving us new installments, they fell off, but I never gave up. Sure for a while I tried to be content with reading the same stuff over and over. I memorized most of it, especially the letters from Raven- thats her best work; but I became hungry for her. I missed her so much; I needed her- so I found her and when she moved, I found her again.

Now she has this apartment, and a job that I can see her at whenever I want; but I don't dare go in too often, I don't want her to know me. I'm not ready for her to see me, to know how much I care- but more over how much I love her. I don't think she could handle it right now, she really has a lot going on and to throw me into the mix would be down right mind-blowing. I mean how would I explain how I found her? How would she take the knowledge of the lengths that I went through to get to her?

She might be impressed, or angry or scared. But even if slightly weary of me, I still think it would please her greatly to know everything. She is a bit of an attention hound, that's why she started putting her writing on the web, so people would tell her how great she is, and they did- so in reality the site served for two addictions, hers to attention and everyone else's to her.

So you have why I sought her, now for the how- that's a little less in depth. It was really quite easy, you see for a time she actually became quite close to a few people on that site I mentioned before, one in particular- he had lots of personal information about her all stored right there in his computer, which he keeps plugged in all the time. So getting the vital stuff I needed was easy after I linked into him some.

All I really needed was his email addy but then it was so wonderful, hearing him talk about her- some the surface stuff I know about her, I got from him. He spoke very freely about her when she ceased contact with him, he seemed very hurt; but his problems were the least of my worries by that time. I got into his computer, got the information I needed and then the rest was easy, sure it became some complicated when she switched states, but even that, with his unknowing help, it became easy. He had her within reach the whole time, but he couldn't hold onto her.

Now he can't come within so many feet of her and moreover he can't even call and hear that sweet voice-which I do quite often. I hate to call and hang up like that, but then again what could I possibly say? Besides she probably blames the hang-ups on him-, which is just as well for me anyway. So I get to see her at least twice a day most days, and I call to hear her a couple of times a day. Its difficult to take but its like the more I get the more I want. And if I had her what would I do? Could I keep her happy? I couldn't deal with losing her if she ever truly belonged to me, of that I'm sure.

Maybe I should have been paying attention when he was crying over her, maybe it was a lesson I could learn without the pain; but you see I have already learned my lesson from his mistake- you never push too hard, sometimes you have to be content with what you get for awhile. Its kinda funny, she told him once- that she compared herself and her affections to a brand new rose bud, if you give it sun and water-via love and attention- and time to grow, she could turn into a beautiful rose. On the other hand, if you tried to just pry the petals open as soon as you start to see the soft shade of color or at the mere hint of scent, the bud will just die, and never be fully enjoyed. He couldn't take what was offered, always wanting more; I have already learned how to be patient and get far more than he could ever imagine.

I have smelled her, I have seen her in the moonlight (in far less than she should probably be walking around in), I have almost tasted her once via a half glass of merlot she left behind; she is my dream walking. I enjoy her like I do breathing; yes it comes as first nature, yes inhaling more of it gives me comfort within my chest, and yes its something I can't live without- these statements describe her as well as anything you can think of. I have tried to fill my days with other pass times but trust in the knowledge that nothing is as all consuming as loving her.

Remember before I told you that her writing makes you feel like you're being held- that doesn't even begin to describe it. It's as if, you know the tingly feeling of first love, the passion of a summer fling, and the comfort of old true love- she is all of that, with just words. She smiles in a poem, she cries in a story, she yells and argues in an online fight- with her words you feel her, and you love the way she makes you feel. It's really that simple.

And loving her is all that complicated, she calls to me in my sleep and I end up getting up and finding a way to get close to her, even if its just standing under the window to the bedroom where she sleeps. Just once I wished she'd come to the window and see me staring up at her, I want her to hear my heart pounding from way down there in the alley. However it would be quite awkward if her husband chose to join her side at that very moment. It would crush me to see the look of surprise on her face, when she first catches a glimpse of me only to follow that delight with seeing her husband hold her from her behind and guide her back to bed. I know he loves her, but I envy him so much. Being able to hold her in his arms night after night, to feel her body touching his. Does he really know what he holds in that heart of his? Hold on tight dear man, for if you should ever falter, know that I'm waiting here, to catch her, to hold her- and trust I'll never let her go.

I mentioned before that I have been to her work, which was such an amazing night. More of a roller coaster ride, rather than a wonderful winged ride, (insert nervous laugh here) as I described her life before. It was a Monday night and she is new at this job so she was still training. I arrived shortly after she acquired that table, she tried so hard- I know she did. She smiled, and was nice to the kids and respectful to the adults. She did her best to fill their orders quickly and correctly, but as it all started to fall apart, so did she. I seen her trembling when they started to complain, I watched her tear up when she walked away, I looked on helplessly as panicked and frantic she tried desperately to appease the customers. I even silently cringed as full of shame, the manager walked her out to the table to apologize for her negligence-she should never have the look of shame on her face, it just doesn't fit. But I did feel my spirits rise as I heard her yelling at the manager in the back for chastising the person who was training her. She allows no one to take responsibility for her actions, it was however exciting to hear her yelling and making her point in person- she is very much the way she is online, when she is upset/angry she is overpowering, and you can only sit back and watch in awe.

I don't get to see that side of her very often any more, it was mostly online. Usually in real life she is very subdued, overly sexual but quiet. Its that quiet calm that keeps you guessing, I think if she were angry at me I would rather have it, hear it all- but apparently she is (although I hate the word) trained, to keep it under wraps. Another funny metaphor she uses for herself, involves when she gets angry and has to let her other self out, she calls it shaking out her feathers- this has to do with her online alter ego, the Blaqueraven. Note the fair amount of respect that goes along with that name, very regal, commanding, alluring, exciting; as if you would wait up all night just to see a glimpse of her in the sky- far out of reach but at least visible.

That is exactly how it was when she was online, and trust a good many people did show up just to see her briefly, to feel that Raven's hand touch their souls. And that's how you become hooked, that's how we all got started with her, and most importantly that's how I got where I am now. I am totally in love with an almost mythical, predominantly untouchable, sensual creature that reins my every thought. Fate have mercy on my heart.

That night when she broke down there in front of everyone, it was unbearable, the tears streaming down her face. I wanted to hold her so bad; she slipped outside briefly to compose herself- at that moment I could have taken her away. I wanted to follow her out there, take her hand, whisper a few words in her ears, and then she would have been mine- at least for a while.

I could have held her out there in the moonlight, I might have been able to tell her who I am, honestly that doesn't even matter, I just wanted to hold her. I hate to see her cry, to see the look of disappointment she had on her face that night- the disapproval she had with herself was very unsettling.

It's just that I hold her up so high, she is my love, my lady, my queen; I honestly love her. I have watched her with her kids, all bright and sunny- the three of them outside are like a spring day. I have seen her angry, slightly depressed with her life, once again agreeing to do something she doesn't want to do. You should have seen the pain in her eyes the first time I seen her after she took out her third hole (its an earring thing, it was very important to her). But now she is just solemn with that decision, she did it to prove her commitment to her husband and her marriage.

You might be thinking that this should deter me from loving her, that maybe I should try to find someone free. If this is your feeling so far, then you haven't grasped a very important point- she is the one. A lot of people may believe she is their "one" as well, but there are two facts undeniable- she belongs to him, and I absolutely love her. It is virtually impossible to know her and not feel something for her, but once you read her-say goodbye to your heart.

But giving my heart to her is something I would easily sacrifice, I already gave up my home and am ready to offer my soul if it'll help. I'll not state how far I traveled just to be at her side, but I will hint as to the fact that during my brief near encounter with her at the restaurant where she works, I was very careful not to speak when she was around not to any of the wait staff or otherwise- she would have picked up on my voice immediately. I know she would have and that would have been the nail in my coffin, she would have come over to my table and asked where I was from and heart evident, my expressions for her would have come pouring out.

And then what, poor Raven falls to the floor from over exposure to love, though she doesn't seem the type prey to fainting spells. Were I to tell that my trip was long and somewhat scary for a man in my position, that it was nothing but passion and love that got me here because when it comes to her I have no free will, I feel that maybe she may very well have to sit down from the shock of it all. And where better a place to sit than at my very table, oh yes that would have been a very good idea after all. At least, here in my mind and in my heart it seems to be, but would it really be her overcome with feelings of weakness, or would my own butterflies be my downfall instead?

She is the very beat of my heart, this may seem cliché, but it takes very basic metaphors to describe a love that feels so natural. I wake in the morning with her name on my lips and I go to sleep every night praying that when I do wake it will be to the gentle sound of her voice answering me. I have yet to have those prayers answered but here again is where the patience comes in, I know that to press myself upon her would be too great; so I live here among the letters, words and phrases- and yet dying somehow to get out. But if my death would result in my heaven spent with her then with this I could be quite content. I just want her, I mean I need her. I feel sometimes that my heart was only put inside my chest to be a vessel surging to remind me how much she affects me.

There are times when I curse my heart, my soul and my mind for allowing me to get so drawn in on such an untouchable creature. It's like falling in love with a butterfly; the colors hypnotize you, you watch them twirl and perform, and then you follow them as it flutters and dances right before your eyes.

The only problem is while you're watching, you forget everything else. Reason goes out the window, logic no longer exists, and you find yourself falling, tripping and subjecting yourself to dangers, just to keep watching. And I do keep watching, as I said I'm hooked, addicted; life is just an invasion on my time in watching her, an interference I sometimes can't afford.

I like to believe myself a rational man, not subject to fits of rage or violence, but there are times when I just can't control myself. When it comes to her, I lose all ability to think for myself. Remember I mentioned her calling to me, she doesn't just do it at night; she does it all day long- she talks to me in my head, telling me what to do next, coaching me along the steps that will bring me closer to her side. And the odd thing is I don't even think she knows how well I have carried out her cries for help. When people have hurt her I got rid of the pain by getting rid of the cause. I couldn't very well walk right up and hold her, comfort her as I would have liked to- but I did eliminate the problem.

Like that asshole Sam Manning, him and his bitch wife thought it would be fun to screw with her life a little. They went to great lengths to cause her agony over the internet- calling her names, making fun of her work, trying to dirty the beautiful dark veil that made her beyond their ugly reach. Although they did cause her pain, they did make her cry, hell they were one of the reasons she left us all behind- they will never cause anyone pain again. They were just as easy to find as she was, maybe even easier since I was so driven to avenge her. I hunted them like the dogs that they were and made them sorry for hurting her. The whore screamed and cried and begged, it was pathetic. I watched with no mercy- I showed them what she wanted them to see. She wanted them to know agony, I fed it to them on a glass spoon.

I silenced him first, he was no match; lame, weak, sad- hardly the hard-core stud he portrays online, people are never what they seem. I couldn't wait to recount to her the memories I had of getting rid of them. I could hear them arguing and her yelling about taking a shower. When I came in Manning was in the living room downstairs, half passed out. It was almost natural coming up behind him, making sure he'd seen the large shiny machete. The blade glistened in the light from the TV and the blue glow seemed to hush my prey as the gash in his throat began to spread wider until his blood was pouring fluidly from his neck. I loved talking to him while the pain cut through his skin, whispering softly and driving him madly into death ,"it's amazing what you'll do for the love of an amazing woman, you should have never tried to soil her the way you did, let the Raven's heart be avenged!"

She would have smiled at the site of him quivering in fear, not concerned with his wife only with himself; and the bitch seemed real surprised to see me standing over his blood leaking body. She actually tried to run, screaming about me taking whatever I wanted as long as I don't kill her, as if she could bargain with me. I simply caught her up by the back of her hair and yanked back to me. She started scrambling to pull her robe tighter around her flaccid body, questioning if my intent is to rape her, I couldn't contain my laughter any longer.

"That idea is purely preposterous, I wouldn't take it if you were giving it away. You are a clear cut whore, and I wouldn't waste the time it would take to make myself sink to a level low enough to want you." She actually seemed hurt, as if she had a heart beating inside her soon to be lifeless chest. Even as she starting begging for a reason why I knew she only wanted to excuse herself from blame, pretended not to know why I was there for them. I took great pleasure in explaining how thankful the Raven would be that I waited quietly for them, killed them quickly and left them to rot in hell. I noticed the look of shock on her face while still gripping her hair and holding her body arched, I brought the machete down with all my might. Severed clean, I was sure to drop it in her husband's lap; I figured he'd enjoy a little head.