can't change the past

Vincenzo Moreno

I knew for a fact I liked Rina. I admired her with every bit of my being. The breath she exhaled—I could comfortably take in. The floor she walked on, a spot my lips could kiss.

It beat me how the feelings hadn't died considering I had slept with her. Rather than lose interest and see her as nothing more than a cheap fuck I had at my disposal, I became more drawn to her. More fascinated with her. I couldn't place a finger on the defining feature, but Rina was everything a guy would want in a woman.

I threw my closet open and picked up an outfit. Flinging it to the bed, I stood akimbo and stared.

I imagined Rina seated here. On the bed, with a magazine in her hand. She looked up from what could be a write-up about Women's Health. Not that I knew what she liked; but she looked like someone who read such.

She blessed my sight with a beautiful smile and there I was, crawling close. Going to offer a token of my love to her. It was a kiss motivated by anything but lust.