Kiss me 2.1
It is the hot jet that floods, the liberated moan, the shared tremor.
I play the last note. It resonates, long, pure, and fades into the returned silence.
The silence is no longer the same. It is full. It is inhabited.
I feel a drop fall on my shoulder. Then another. I look up.
Léo is crying. Silently. Tears wash away trails of charcoal on his cheek. He doesn't look down. He stares at me, and in his gaze, there is no more fear. There is a revelation. A sacred terror.