MichaeLuna - I'm Not Like Other Girls - Part 2 - Michael

"You've come for another one, haven't you?" Luna breathed out the words while her mouth formed a weak smile. "Michael, when will it end? Haven't you given enough?"

"They don't understand yet," he stated emphatically as he stared into her other-worldly eyes.

"They may never understand," she sighed and drew him closer to her.

If it hurt to touch him, it hurt her much more not to. Her embrace brought a breath of euphoria from his lips, as he held her to him, absorbing the power and inspiration of an ancient time and place. Her lifetimes poured through him once more, healing him and draining him at the same time. He lived for these moments. He wondered how such ecstasy could bring such torment. He couldn't let himself think of that now.

"Let's go," she spoke sweetly, kissing him on the forehead as a mother would kiss a sleeping child.

But he was not her child. He was not her lover, at least she hadn't planned it that way. Now it was too late to undo what they'd done. She could understand his hunger for her - for the magical words and melodies that a touch from her had set into motion. What terrified her was her growing need for him. She had always been able to inspire, plant the seed of greatness, and then disappear. Michael was the only one that had found his way into her heart in a way that confused and frustrated her. She hadn't needed anyone before. They had all needed her, craved her powers, unknowingly accepted her gifts, and had promptly forgotten her visits (if they had been vaguely aware of her presence at all).

Michael was the only one who had seen her face, whose eyes she had been lost in for those few fateful moments. The first time it had happened, she gathered her wits about her and vanished as quickly as she had appeared. He was the only one who sought her out to thank her. He was the only one who had so appreciated her gift to him, that he had found a way to see her again.

He didn't care enough about the price he would have to pay. He wanted to hold her, to love her, to let her know with all his soul, that he was never going to forget how sweet she had been to him.

She had never known such gratitude, such innocent passion from a human. She couldn't define what she needed from him. She only knew that as beautiful and intoxicating as it was, she couldn't continue to accept his love. It seemed to be somehow pulling him away from his world. She feared he may disappear completely. This had never happened before.