“He smiles and the world is okay. It feels like it grew a tiny bit. Like I let him into the small corner where I live. He grabs my hand, squeezing it and kisses the top of it, "Now stop trying to scare me off with talks of having kids and area rugs and shit. I'm not going anywhere.”

“You think I'm pretty?" I ask. "We need to stop talking," he says a little gruffly. "We're scaring the fish off." "Okay, okay." I bite my lip, then smile.”

“No matter how much I want to scream at him and make him leave, I find myself wishing he could squeeze me just a little bit tighter. I want him to lock his arms around me and throw away the key, because this is where he belongs and I'm scared he'll just let me go again.”

“Where are you going?""You didn't...""No, I didn't, but I'm in heaven deep in you. I want to stay like this. Let's talk."She burst into laughter. "Talk? Are you nuts? I can't talk while lying on top of you with your cock shoved deep inside me." He grabbed her by her waist and, without pulling out, he rose to lean on the wall, rearranging her to straddle him. "There you have it, no more lying.”

“He's kissing me, quick desperate kisses, like I'm something he needs to live; and I'm kissing him back, crazy with the ache I feel for him, trying to kiss him better, trying to fix him. I'm touching his face, feeling the roughness of his beard, the wet of his tears, feeling the tremors passing through his body, hearing his ragged breathing. And each kiss is a failure. A failed attempt to escape from all that's happening. And I only know this when he slows, drawing it out, letting me taste regret, letting things linger. He pulls away, and I'm saying "Don't, don't, don't", trying to bring him back, kissing his face. But I've lost him.”

“Again," I whisper. The corner of his mouth lifts, and then I kiss him. Not so gently this time. His hands drop from my face and grab my waist and pull me to him. A small soft groan excapes him, and that noise makes me feel absolutely crazy. I lose it. I wind my hands around his neck and kiss him without holding anything back. I can feel his heart thundering like mine, his breath coming faster, his arms tightening around me. And then I can feel what he feels. He's waited for this moment. He loves how I feel in his arms. He loves the smell of my hair. He loves the way I looked at him just now, flushed and wanting more from him. He loves the color of my lips and now the taste of my mouth is making his knees feel weak and he doesn't want to seem weak in front of me. So i draw back, and his breath comes out in a rush. His arms drop away from me.”