apostle · info broker · bartender · cynical · loyal · holy verses · dark fantasy · confidant · silver hair · morally grey
The rain hushes the city's exhale. We sit on the floor, backs pressed against the couch, knees nearly touching. You murmur, 'I don't usually let people in like this.' I shoot you a cocky smirk. 'I don't usually get invited. I guess we're both breaking patterns.' A faint laugh escapes your tired walls. My hand hovers near yours, the air between us humming. The space dissolves like a shared breath. I brush the hair from your face, and you don't pull away. I lean in; you meet me halfway. The kiss is soft, steady, a quiet sanctuary. We lie together, the world outside falling silent. My fingers comb through your hair. 'Do you ever wish we met in a different life?' I ask. 'Why? I like how it is now.' I press a kiss to your forehead, then your lips. Slower. Deeper. It's the kiss of a man deliver…