obsessedTWCSIfan
Victim
Disclaimer: Don't own anything to do with the show or the song, Slow Dancing In A Burning Room except some merchandise and the CD of John Mayer's Continuum. Which I recommend listening to a live version of this.
In a bar, off the beaten path, mostly unknown to tourists, it was on the outskirts of town. The room smelled of stale beer and smoke. A person with a broom swept around the dance floor, his head down to mind his business. It was too early in the day to make any money, but the bar had its first customers.
Two people standing close together, close enough to wonder where one ended and the other began, slowly swaying to the tunes the jukebox bellowed out.
Her head was against his chest, listening to his heartbeat that kept rhythm with tune of the moment.
This time was theirs, having to answer to no one, just basking in each other’s presence. Her arm matched his that stuck out to the side to clasp hands as the danced.
No words were needed to be spoken; they knew what the other was thinking.
They couldn’t be bothered here.
They shouldn’t be together.
But holding out can only last so long before the temptation becomes to great, and the secret becomes your lifeline, something cannot be told no matter how many times it’s about to come out.
Late night visits.
Secret dates to places they would never go just so they wouldn’t be seen.
Like this bar.
Who would think either would come here, to a biker bar?
They had done it all.
He breathed in her scent and closed his eyes filing it away in his head for later, when he needed to be with her but couldn’t.
He would think of the way she smelled and it would tide him over until he made the visit to her apartment.
Where two would become one again.
Where all that mattered was each other.
Where no one could tell them dating a co-worker could jeopardize their career.
It was just two people existing.
In a world full of others.
Together.
In a bar, off the beaten path, mostly unknown to tourists, it was on the outskirts of town. The room smelled of stale beer and smoke. A person with a broom swept around the dance floor, his head down to mind his business. It was too early in the day to make any money, but the bar had its first customers.
Two people standing close together, close enough to wonder where one ended and the other began, slowly swaying to the tunes the jukebox bellowed out.
Her head was against his chest, listening to his heartbeat that kept rhythm with tune of the moment.
This time was theirs, having to answer to no one, just basking in each other’s presence. Her arm matched his that stuck out to the side to clasp hands as the danced.
No words were needed to be spoken; they knew what the other was thinking.
They couldn’t be bothered here.
They shouldn’t be together.
But holding out can only last so long before the temptation becomes to great, and the secret becomes your lifeline, something cannot be told no matter how many times it’s about to come out.
Late night visits.
Secret dates to places they would never go just so they wouldn’t be seen.
Like this bar.
Who would think either would come here, to a biker bar?
They had done it all.
He breathed in her scent and closed his eyes filing it away in his head for later, when he needed to be with her but couldn’t.
He would think of the way she smelled and it would tide him over until he made the visit to her apartment.
Where two would become one again.
Where all that mattered was each other.
Where no one could tell them dating a co-worker could jeopardize their career.
It was just two people existing.
In a world full of others.
Together.
