The floor of the living room was strewn with bottles of champagne and vodka, totally abandoned by the attention of those present.
A strong music resounded through the air, along with identifiable sounds and noises confused, the boy could not understand anything.
Her lips were burning on contact with alcohol, his glassy eyes roam the space around them and to distinguish the lights, bodies on the dance, the constant touching of the people heard the screams and chatter that were made each time.
Year after year, never changed anything.
is celebrated, drank and then we went crazy.
Despite continuingglasses, he wanted to remain lucid contrary.
A scream louder shook him and saw a girl fall against a low table, dropping a few glasses and an empty bottle that was left over.
In the normal course would be all gone in outburst, but the present - without exception - were lost in laughter.
But yes, what was there to worry?
Maybe she was hurt, the glasses were on the floor, but the thrill of the party to prevent their minds to bring out all the dangers, to celebrate, they went to the second - or even contain - the plan.
shook his head and went to his room, trying to coat.
Several times his friends had gone to him to ask why not dance or put on a conversation, but the answer was always the same: I do not want .
jack his jacket and opened the packet of cigarettes and the balcony door, struggling with the lighter that was repeatedly turned off by the wind, lit a cigarette.
took a deep breath.
The scent of vanilla wrapped his lungs, moaned and breathed.
did not want to accept it, was the morning that that sense of unease her limbs tangled.
had always been a kind all too poetic - he had to admit - and often life had never given a moment's respite.
New Year celebration was a fool, all music and alcohol, colorful hats and masks, all happy to celebrate the end of one year. Where did
, all this happiness?
A year that dies, is it a situation to celebrate?
shook his head again, feeling stupid.
The wind began to rise, shaking her hair blacks as the mantle of the night, turned around from the fireworks that already filled the darkness.
Colors.
He wanted to turn them off, one by one and only to master the sky and only black, nothing more than the total, the void that would fill his heart when the hands were the paws of that last moment ' year.
Cicco slowly, seeing how the ash drifted down from the balcony to the side of the road.
Slow.
calculated.
was falling off the cigarette and the next moment, was gone.
How bad is the subtlety of a moment.
The shorter, more would you live it. Less
feel it, the more you would like to tighten and to ascertain the consistency between the hands.
chuckled, feeling ridiculous.
possible that instead of celebrating was lost in useless monologues?
from three in the afternoon bombarded with questions, trying to find in the depths of his soul to the explanation of his illness but the answer was only one.
Lips that touch each row.
Hands that try and huddle.
Bodies intertwine, rubbing and merge into one.
intoxication of alcohol, excitement and a feeling of irrationality.
Morning fact of confusion, memories dim and only one certainty:
would not happen again.
Until that day, she had lived with memories.
could still hear her lover's lips on his, savoring its sweet fragrance and never let her go. It was his life, he was in contact with him every day, had blood its own DNA and look in the mirror he could see in his reflection, his features.
Yet it was never enough.
could touch each thinking of his hands, but the gap continued to fill every little part of himself.
I remember that night fighters were in his mind, so that up to an hour continued to eat it in the sad hours of sheer loneliness.
but from that day, everything would belong to the past.
There was no time for the memories, in the world.
time had closed the door in his face, was behind blowing her breath on my neck, so that night he found his end, thrown in a drawer and forgotten, dusty and old age.
Past. Only the past.
The Moor gave a bitter laugh.
What he needed a new year, when all he wanted was to stay in the two thousand and eight?
What a new life when the one he was already so well?
He wanted to go back to that night, to live that moment and make him immortal.
eating of irrationality so much as to make it become one with himself.
"Bill! What are you doing out there? You left the window open, it freezes! "
And here, he hopped into the room.
Bill leaned over, so as to meet his gaze.
The hazel irises were clean, no trace of alcohol or intoxication.
"I fumarmi a cigarette in your company, or would you rather ...? "
" No, no, stay. "Whispered the dark
.
The boy went out into the balcony and the window came up behind them.
Bill handed him the package and it slipped off a brother, waiting lighter.
"No, wait, with this wind is an impossibility ..." He motioned to the twin
aspire to, combining his butt to his own.
"Right, brother ... "
he chuckled.
They did bring the cigarettes, their faces after so much so close, the hair blacks are mixed with other young rasta honey fragrance in a clean and oriental spices.
Once the heat of the cigarette came to rasta, broke away from a little brother, giving the young a new sense of coldness.
They turned to look at both the sky was tinged with red, yellow, pink, light.
"Every year there's the same show ... but never fails to enchant you know? "
murmured Tom.
"Yes, it's true ... it is very nice. Yet, we do not find anything to celebrate. "
The Rasta looked amused gaze of the twin, which was stubbornly indefinable point in a corner of the atmosphere at night.
"Ah ... yes. Well, if it consoles you, me neither. "The dark
surprised she turned toward him, trying to figure out if the twin had the same thoughts that pass through the meanders of his mind.
"Would you ever make a second, instead of having to face a book with blank pages? "
whispered, a little 'hesitant and uncertain.
's eyes narrowed rasta, shrugging his shoulders.
`I have enough riassaggiare moment. A new year, a field in the air without a foundation so it makes me afraid. It has nothing to mine, nor of your own. What could be at least somewhat enjoyable? "The dark
smiled, so happy to be in the words of the twin.
He threw his cigarette butt on the street, regardless of the journey into space that was about to face.
took his brother's hands and dropped another cigarette, dragging him into the room.
"Bill ... what are you doing? It's cold in here ... "The boy
silenced him with a slight kiss, closing the window well.
"Shh ... soon you will not anymore. "The Rasta
smiled, holding back the boy.
"There are five minutes to midnight. "He took a few steps back, approaching the door.
"Would you like to start this new year? Basing it on ... a error? "The dark
nodded, looking down, although those words hurt it.
Meanwhile, the lock snapped, locking the room.
Bill did not want to see what his brother was doing.
The feeling of fear and helplessness that once already had passed on his skin, he was doing again compete to emerge in every part of his body.
She could feel every shudder, while the desire of his brother on him was becoming more vivid and strong.
"Tomi .. "
whispered, stretching out his arm.
The next moment the Rasta was at his side, and two hot lips were resting on her neck.
She felt her skin become moist, while fire and ice gently stroked.
"I do not know how I did it all this time without you ..." The
words were the twin blasts in the crook of his neck. "I thought that the memory is enough for me ... but now that is about to be ripped off, I do not want to fade away. "
The boy moaned, sliding his fingers on the back of the other.
"is about to strike midnight ... "The Rasta
threw the alarm with one hand on the floor, straps after Bill below him.
He brought his lips to his contact with the ear, whispering inside.
"Shh ... no longer exists the time now, Bill. Only us. "The heart of the dark
stopped beating, he was sure.
Just as the screams announcing the "minus one " from the living room became higher and a large and noisy fireworks burst in the air, their lips came together in a deeper contact, by crashing their flavors just flavored alcohol and tobacco, while they were lost in the ancient dance of the kiss.
Their souls are ceaselessly intertwined, so aware of so irrational as to perform an act prohibited. The hands of
rasta sneak under the shirt of the twin, with his cold hands touching the warm skin. With so many fingers drew imaginary circles, which were to descend lower and lower.
Bill reached out to the switch, turning off the light.
No one could vaguely discern the union was going to be accomplished in that room.
illuminated only by the fireworks colorful and cheerful through the window, their legs intertwined without ever wanting to leave.
kisses on the neck touched, licked and sucked the skin with desire. The clothes that little by little were marched, almost without knowing it.
Funny how you're dressed for a moment completely and the next six right there, below him, looking at your body as if to eat it, inch by inch.
Tom slid his finger right on the growing desire of the boy, touching and teasing, the way he had always imagined at that time who had seen them away.
"Would you kill me?"
whispered Bill, andandogli to caress her cheek. The Rasta
with the movement of the head is rubbed over there, then going to rest against the lips of the boy.
kissed softly, sinking little fingers inside him, getting a moan that the next moment silenced with that same touch of lips.
"I do not want to kill you ... I just want to love you, fully ... even better than what we hold in our memories. I want this year is just like now. Every single moment ... "The words died
in the throat while pushing slowly entered into him.
Bill closed his eyes, his lips parted in a silent cry, too preoccupied by feelings for to articulate a single syllable.
Pleasure, pain, joy, sorrow, fear, uncontrollable happiness ..
You could not describe what he felt on his skin.
Tom pushed him in piano and continue to bombard his face as his bare chest with kisses and bites, sending his brother in total ecstasy.
between memory and experience, he discovered that it was the most fantastic of course he could choose.
The fear of taking a wrong action it was moving away from what life offered him, and felt really a total idiot.
Bill was there, under him, ready to want it, ready to welcome him.
It was so easy to be a moment inside him, perhaps because his heart was always there, without the need for a physical union.
But lusted after him for almost an entire year, was back there, to spend a night of love as much as they did not have one.
too.
Their sighs drowned out the noise of fireworks, as the screams and moans of pleasure coming out drooping from their lips.
were so, her lips combined with each other, while their sweaty bodies rubbing one last time, losing, finally, the concept of time.
Their breasts rose and fell under the irregular rhythm of the breath coming out weak from their lips. Bill turned to his twin, they can almost count the many droplets of sweat beaded on his forehead.
Tom kept his eyes half closed, almost afraid to face reality. He felt a cold hand trace the contours of his face, long fingernails twin tickle his skin flushed.
smiled softly, stopping with her.
put his hand on their lips, the touch of a wet kiss, and then stop there, at the center of the chest, right over his heart.
"You think it's never wrong, something that chooses him ? "
Bill bit his lip, slowly shaking his head, but conscious of the fact that his brother could not see it.
He went over to him, resting his head on the chest of a lover.
The heart of the rasta trample, just as the fireworks outside the room.
"Tomi No ... I ... I guess in the end it more right to do, is what our heart says. No pulse that our body sends us will ever be called wrong. "The Rasta
smiled, nodding to himself that perhaps more than his twin.
"Yeah. When you live in error, the wrong thing would be to take a correct action. "The
moretto laughed, giving him a slight kiss on the jaw.
"Are you stupid, but it's true. Do not tell me anything, this year, all of it based on an error, as you said before. I hurt, really. I ... I believe in this. "
Tom groaned, clasping him stronger in his warm lips and sinking almost to lose my breath.
Their tongues intertwined again, much to stun a lot more than he could make them pleasantly disbanded a glass of alcohol.
Tom moved away from him, panting, shaking his head fervently.
"Never, Bill. You're damn right thing I could do and I'll never let me think more the reason for the incontrario. "
Bill kissed him back with force, intoxicated with the mere breath of his being.
"I love you, Tom. "
A hand clasped to her, making it pleasantly conscious of what the reality was impressed with the passing of time.
"I love you, Bill. Eternally. "
N: E 'to fix, I know, but this story began on the very first year to two and a half at night encapsulates everything that is on my mind in those last hours.
'The eternal moment', the title is silly and a bit trite the result of frustration that we have in the veins in those moments of desolation and regret, a something that has now slipped away ...
ç_ç
But now after I made a reason, I can only smile at the top and say, damn, it came out something good! XD
Flavia Fabiana Ginobi (c)
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