Our tongues engage in a slow and fervent dance, pushing and pulling on each other. My fingers venture up to comb through his soft hair while his hands discover every inch of my back. I'll think about how he maintains my feet off the ground effortlessly later. For now, I let my hands travel down to stroke his arms before moving to his chest.
We abide by that rhythm for a good while. One that I'll never deem too long. But alas, my restless mind catches up to me.
To let me know I am making a mistake. To tell me there are going to be consequences. To remind me how horrible of a person I am for kissing him right after telling him I don't see a future where we could be together.
