as if the timing is wrong, or this was not supposed to happen at all, but i don’t just think it; i feel it in my very bones.
“are you crazy?” i shout and push him away from me.
when he gets close to me and runs his fingers through my hair, his smile gone, i already know that the story is about me. it was never about him. his touch is electric indeed, but i fear it’s for all the wrong reasons.
i want to sit down. i came home with a mad one. i just wish somebody walked past us.
i take a step back before allowing myself to lean of my 