The haze of lust glistened our eyes with expectations. With the lights off, the illumination of the moon crawled onto our indecisive faces from outside the big window beside us and became our only candle. Our almost naked bodies were inches apart, yet we could not seem to mend the distance.
My fingers toyed with the white sheets beneath our bodies, craving for yours. You breathed out the dry smokes of your cigarette and I wanted to drink each fog to remember you.
“Tomorrow, it might not be the same if we cave in,” you said.
“If we let the anticipation wolf us,” I said. “We would become wintry rivers.”
My unspoken thoughts filled your bedroom until it reached my lungs. Somehow, I died to feel your fingertips so I could realize I was still here.
WORD COUNT: 136
Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.