Creative Inspiration

Sitting on the floor. The couch behind me and the scattered pages of my next potential writing project in front of me.

“This is ridiculous…” I groan to myself, leaning back into the couch. I've been staring at these pages for what feels like days and I’m still blocked.

Ideas, half written chapters, scenes pulled from my mind by events throughout my writing journey. One after another, I’ve pick up a piece to read and find myself tossing them back, sighing once again in frustration.

“Nothing is giving me inspiration” I say to myself.

Its becoming an infuriating battle between past and present me. The former showing of spotlights of well written scenes and ideas, while the latter struggles with how to further develop them into stories rather than just scenes. 

Staring at the pages like they’re the enemy, a soft touch starts inching across my neck from behind. I inhale sharply, having forgotten who was lounging on the couch behind me, and lean into the touch as it grips my jaw, pulling my head back so my eyes meet his.

His eyes glisten with fire as he tightens his grip, making sure I’m giving my full attention to him. My breath hitches again with the pressure and he smiles,

“You’re forcing again, my love” he says softly.

I roll my eyes in response. I know I’m too tense and overthinking. I’m fully aware of how my brain works at this point in my life. I’m also aware that I know how to work through a block in a way that bring good progress to my goals, especially my writing goals.

“Look at me” he growls.

My eyes find his. He rubs his thumb over my lips. 

“Stop” he commands. "I know, that you know what to do right now. You’re stalling.”

I stare at him, “stalling?”

“Yes, stalling.” He releases my jaw, and I go back to staring at the floor covered in paper.

Stop stalling? Am I stalling? I mean, I guess that maybe I am. Perhaps somewhere in the depths of my subconscious I'm avoiding working on anything new. Though right now, I can’t come up with any that would actually help me move forward.

Releasing a deep breathe, I turn toward him, “any suggestions on how to stop? Or work through it?”

Putting down the book he was reading, he looks at me, then offers his hand. Placing mine onto it, he pulls me up to straddle his lap.

“This seems like a bit much.” I say with a bit of sass once I'm settled.

“Change of perspective can be helpful,” he responds, placing a soft kiss on my lips. “Plus you’ve been down there too long and I missed you.”

I chuckle, shaking my head.

“You have been right next to me this whole time.”

“But…I was up here on the couch. You were on the floor. Completely different locations.”

I lean in to kiss him again, “ridiculous,” I chuckle. “Are you going to help? Or are we…”

His eyes glisten with a desire that begins to course through me.

“Wait, no, that's not what I meant!” I say quickly and try to get off his lap.

He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight to him.  

“Purhaps” he growls into my neck, giving little kisses to my warming skin. “Either option could be helpful in changing perspective, or getting you out of your head”

“I…” my breathing begins to pick up. I try to back up, but he tightens his arms around me, kissing my neck. Effectively keeping me where he apparently wants me.

“wait, wait!” I say, still, chuckling. “I have a deadline. I really need to work on this next project.”

“The project you haven’t decided on yet?” He asks, lifting a brow.

I sigh, sagging a bit more into his lap. “yes… which is why you offered to help?”

“Hmmm.”

“Please?!” I say softly, leaning in to kiss him.

He groans, giving in like I knew he would. “Fine…”

"Yay!” I smile at him and he laughs.