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Truth at last

He is desperate, and his kisses are equally frantic. They taste of blood, sweat, and tears; searing me to the bone with the bottomless hunger they convey. I shiver helplessly. The little room is so dark I can't see the expression on his handsome face, but I can imagine the vibrant blue of his eyes and the abandonment on his features, the rapture I so far only saw when he was kissing one of his endless female conquests. He is whispering my name and clutching my body to his, hot, feverish through the little we both wear, here in the dark. Telling me he should have seen it sooner, that he loves me, only me, and that he can't even remember touching anyone besides me before. I smile. The world around us doesn't matter anymore.

A heartbeat later, a glancing blow to his left temple forces him to let go, his bloodied hand spasming helplessly in the dim light that now falls in from the corridor as the Cylons drag me away for the next round of torture.

Battlestar Galactica" ficlet by allaire mikháil, 178 words, Apollo/Starbuck, Apollo POV, rated PG-13
Definitely caused by Anna's stories in the BG fandom. But the fact that I haven't had too much sleep recently as well as being pissed off by the way my apartment still resembles a construction site might have had a tad to do with it, too.
Read-through by Kylara Ingress (thank you so much!) who, despite being busy herself, took enough time out of her schedule to reassure me that it didn't suck. <eg>

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