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She doesn't know. Really, she has no idea that I've become obsessed with her. I only realized myself yesterday, I think.
It started small. I would turn when I heard her voice, and move a few inches nearer to where she stood. I would make excuses to be where she was and before I knew it, my eyes followed her from the time she entered the room till she would leave it again. I find myself looking around me, over my shoulder just to catch a tiny glimpse of the face that has been haunting my dreams.
I think I would probably do just about anything to have her smile at me. But not just any smile, no I want that smile from her that promises the moon and delivers the universe.
Did I mention that she's been haunting my dreams? Yeah, dreams. Such a vague word for the intensity of image and emotion that enslave my mind from the time it leaves the conscious world till I rejoin it hours later. They have become so much a part of me, that on the rare occasion when my sheets are dry in the morning, I'm surprised, surprised and hungry. Oh, not for food, for her. Hungry for the sweet release that I know I'll find only when I'm buried to the hilt in her body.
But she doesn't know.
Tonight as I'm sitting beside her after I've talked her into watching and old football game with me, I want to tell her all of it. All the wanting and hunger she's created just by being there, but then I remember that Beckett is sitting on the other side of me, and Elizabeth is in the corner chair.
But maybe tonight, after the game is over and everyone else is gone. Maybe she'll stick around long enough for me to...
I look around astonished to see that we're alone and the TV's gone to static. But she's still sitting there right beside me, just like I'd imagined.
He does not know. Really, he has no idea that I have become obsessed with him. I've known it for a while now. It started almost the moment I met him on my planet.
In my culture the meeting of the eyes is very important. The eyes tell the story of your life. They are the glass that reveals the heart of who you are. His eyes revealed a depth I've rarely seen in anyone and it was as if I fell into them and found a part of myself there as well. Now, I find myself looking in those eyes as often as possible. I am ashamed to say that I have even invented excuses to be in his presence so that I might catch just one glimpse of his eyes- his heart.
His voice seems to carry the depth of his soul as well. He can never hide his feeling because they are always there in the cadence of his words. I never thought I would long for the sound of someone's voice, but I could listen to his say just about anything. I think sometimes the only things I remember from our morning staff meetings are the things he says, I have to force my mind take heed of the others.
I imagine that voice saying other things too, intimate things. I imagine what it would sound like full of passion and urgency as he whispers my name.
He does say my name like that in my dreams. From the time I lay my head on my resting palate at night, till the first light of morning, I see his eyes full of nothing but me. I hear his voice as I find my release coaxing me on with words so honest and intimate that I cannot think of them even now without feeling flooded by desire. I stare at him when my mind wanders down these paths, and someday he'll catch me looking and know what I am thinking.
But for now, he does not know.
Tonight. I have to tell him tonight. He's asked me to watch his earth game- football- with him again and of course I agree. I'm disappointed to find Carson and Elizabeth there before me, but I smile at him anyway as if they are not in the room. He meets my eyes, smiling in return and I glimpse something I have not seen before, but it is gone so quickly that I know I must have been imaging it.
We laugh and he tells me more about this game he loves so much. The others laugh as well, unaware of the silent but intense communication going on right in front of them. And they leave again completely ignorant of the importance of this single moment.
His name comes unbidden from my lips, a culmination of the longing that has brought us to this place.
"Teyla, I...", "John, there's....". We start to speak at once and laugh at our sense of timing.
She's smiling at me. I can see the moon.
He says my name. I hear his passion.
Hunger and imagination meet in a single kiss.