How am I supposed to move with no arms and legs?'She discovered she could go backward, but she wasn't sure how she managed it. She also discovered she...could turn left or right – after a fashion, anyway – by shifting her (whatever was surrounding and creating her form) one way or the other. So, little by little, she managed to turn (face) upward to view the ceiling, then backed up, that is to say, down, toward the bed and her dead body.It felt cold and clammy. And scary!When she could think. Once the door clicks shut, a long silence lingers. Your deliberate breath as well as his, is all that is audible. Two breaths later, you start to speak, "Why are you here?" "I was just. Wondering what you were doing, you seem distressed." you reply quickly, "Well I was fine thank you very much." John takes a step towards you and says, "Are you sure? You seemed so agitated. By the way, here's this." He extends is hand, forwarding your phone. "Thanks" you whispered. Checking the phone was indeed. .." he starts, and I wait for him to finish, but he doesn't. "Yeah ..." I nod, not sure what to say either. I don't know of a word that exists to describe what just happened. How can you share a moment like that with someone and not feel something... strong? I test my muscles and lift my head to look at him, and he stares back. He looks like he's thinking a million things, his green eyes endless. This man has no idea what he does to me. He's so beautiful, and all I can do is smile. Smile. You were aching…Badly. Intensely. You wanted it, and you were wanted. Desired by all the eyes in the room. It was impossible to not want you. Licked by the playful light of the flames behind you, your body and thoughts were flooded with pleasing warmth. The lines and curves and shape of your body were shining with particular beauty. The pale snow and black ice which dressed the world beyond your walls offered a sharp contrast to the heat inside.The quiet burning within you had turned to roaring.