His lips were soft and delicate as though tender and purposefully made to soothe her troubling mind at that moment. They moved in a way that seemed to be calculated and measured, as though giving her time and space to decide when to pull back or when to stop.
Yet she didn't want to and how could she deny her heart the guilty pleasure as though she was a child that only cared about the savouring taste. She felt as though a chef that had mastered the meal only their mother could make with all the secret ingredients.
She felt proud and free at that moment as he continued to bake her lips into perfect moulds that melted and minced themselves into his. She felt her heart remember how it felt to be in love with him and how he never seemed to disappoint her until he denied her her dream.
