Tonight, you weren’t fine, and I felt your pain. Tell me. Don’t tell. I’ll just stay in my lane. We keep hurting each other. Our unintentional flow. The truth cuts so deep, and we go blow for blow.
We sat on the rooftop with the city lights as our backdrop, devouring those sweet chocolate crêpes and sipping on wine from glasses that Moscow brought up from his apartment.
He kissed her lips lightly, then licked at their fullness. When she kissed him back, a fire ignited and he bit her lower lip.