Wolffe

For the past couple of days, I've been playing Host. For the past couple of days, I've been playing host to...well I don't know how to describe him. Big Bad is the phrase I often use to describe this guy, but he's not bad, far from it. He's bad for your reputation, but he's not bad in the strictest sense of the word. I'd forgotten how deep his voice is, how wickedly funny his laugh is. I mean, shit, seven years since we last saw each other and it was almost as if I never left. Christ.

I hate the fact that he's got someone waiting back home for him. I hate the fact that he's heading home at the end of the month and I hate the fact that I can't go with him because I would. In a heartbeat. And yes, I know he's got someone, but lying side-by-side on my bed after I whipped his arse at Monopoly...my god. I wanted to lose myself in him. I wanted to just tell him "Just do whatever you want because I'm not going to fight you this time." He still wears the same fucking aftershave, fuck me. He's older, I'm older, I'm more responsible, he's grown up a little. But he's still my Wolffe, he's still the guy I fell head over heels for and my God, listening to him laughing at the television...I dunno. Watching him move...dear god, he doesn't walk, he prowls. He's feline. He's everything I could possibly want in someone, he's everything and I hate, oh how I hate the guy who is waiting for him back in Auckland. I've never met you, but I hate you. I often say jealousy is like guilt, a petty waste of emotion but my God, I can't stop feeling anger towards this guy for being with the only guy I still smile about when I think of him.

He says that he's planning on leaving New Zealand mid-year to head up to Britain again. Apparently the work situation there is pretty dire. God, I hope he does and I hope he leaves the new guy at home. I didn't realise what I missed about him until I realised this evening that the food I was making - the same stuff I love making - was stuff he had shown me how to make. Sweet potato soup. Lamingtons. Christ, two things I just make because I *like* them and I had forgotten it was him who had shown me how to make them. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck and yes, I'd love it if he would. It's everything. Seeing him come out of the shower this morning and towelling himself off. I mean, christ, he's certainly been working out and I just wanted to run in there and just run off with that towel. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Ah well. I need to win the lottery sometime soon!