Passion Has No Face
“Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted... unbidden... it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us... passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion maybe we'd know some kind of peace... but we would be hollow... Empty rooms shuttered and dank. Without passion we'd be truly dead.” - Joss Whedon Bel’s eyes opened to the darkness and she stretched slowly in bed, the tightness of muscles the only reminder of the night before. That and the deep snoring beside her. She smiled a bit before she sat up, the sheets falling from her bare body and pooling at her waist. She turned slightly and looked down at the sleeping form next to her, the corner of her mouth turning up in a half smile while she looked over his naked frame...