Disease

Disclaimer: Paramount and/or CBS own Star Trek, Enterprise, and all characters/ places/ objects wherein. No profit is made from this story.
Genre: Angst, MU ficlet
Feedback – YES, Please!
Summary: Mirror Trip has a problem.

Dear Readers: Takes into account the book, Glass Empires, but only that T’Pol is free and back on Vulcan. So you don’t have to read it to get it. This isn’t the story I set out to tell, but it seems that MU Trip is a naughty boy.

Mucho gracias to my beta, Bether!

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I have a disease.

Like a plague it eats away at me, consuming me.

Like lava, it flows through my veins, immolating me.

Like lightning, it ignites every neuron, searing me from within.

No one knows of my agony. I cannot tell them. Because then they would know. Knowledge is power. They cannot know how weak I am.

I should fight it.

I should resist it.

I should push her away.

She's not even here anymore. She’s gone back to her infernal planet. Yet... she still will not leave. Awake, I can ignore her. Awake, I can fill my mind with problems and solutions. Asleep, I can not escape her. Asleep, she is relentless. She has carved her image within my skull.

She has used me. She has hurt me. I hate her.

My eyes close, and she is there. Glorious. Beautiful. Perfect.

Her skin feels delicious beneath my touch. So soft. So warm. She is flush against me; hands along my neck, then in my hair. I suck on her lips. The lips that taunt me. Her head falls back. My mouth moves to her neck. I feel the tremors from deep in her throat. My tongue licks a trail to her ear. I hold her tightly as she shutters.

Her nails slide along my chest, inflaming my skin. Her body is flushed dark copper and green, her flesh slick with sweat. Nothing is as beautiful. A throaty rumble escapes from her lips as I kiss her. My craving is unquenchable. Her back arches and she moans.

More.

I suck in her scent through my teeth; I fill my lungs with her. I will suffocate without it. She tastes like honey. And I am starving. I can’t possibly get enough of her.

My own name echoes in my ears. I can't breathe. My chest is going to explode. I can't even scream. I burst into flames.

Mine.

She is gone. She has left me to smolder.

I open my eyes.

She has used me. She has hurt me. I hate her.

She was the slave. So why am I the one in chains? She has consumed me. She burns behind my eyes. She is my agony.

I should push her away. But I can't.

I should resist it. But I won't

I should fight it. But I don't want to.

I can't live without her.

I have a disease.