inevitable

let me tell you a secret, he says, those hard blue eyes dancing black in yellow streetlights and cold. let me tell you a secret. his all-too-familiar lips part over all-too-familiar teeth and his all-too-familiar tongue darts in and out quickly to calm his winter chap.
let me tell you a secret, he says, stepping closer, and his heat radiates from his dense form in the frozen stillness and the longing to be caught up in those arms and caressed by those hands is a forcible thing, a sick snaking sneaking creature climbing up your throat and squeezing the air from your lungs. let me tell you a secret, and he barks a short laugh and his breath grazes your cheek and you smile uncertain and unwilling to let him in again but incapable of preventing it.
let me tell you a secret, he says, and he leans in to whisper in your ear and you flinch but he doesn't notice. his lips brush your earlobe as he murmurs something you cannot decipher because your heart beats so loudly, echoing in your chest, that it drowns out anything else. what, you say, i didn't hear you, you were too quiet. and he barks out a laugh once more and throws his head toward the sky, at where the moon would be if it weren't hiding behind thick clouds and snow, looking for all the world like a coyote, and perhaps he is, and without looking down he barks yet again and bays 'i love you' to the clouds and then he looks at you and grins, feral in the darkness, and runs his hands through his hair.