Spicy Hot
"But you will get used to them. You will even discover that one can live in them. That one can love in them."
"Love?" she breathes, and it's almost a bitter, stifled laugh.
"Obsession, then. Desire. Possession. Call it what you will. It's the cement that will bind us. The fire that burned everything to make way for something new. For us."
I kiss her. She doesn't respond, but she doesn't pull away. Her mouth is soft, bruised, and I feel the tremor of her entire being, that conflict between disgust and an attraction she can no longer deny. I drink in this conflict. It nourishes me.