It's cold out tonight, and the winds are howling.
Both I and Quinn don't care.
His hands slip under my shirt.
His is already off.
I kiss him deeply.
He kisses me back.
My shirt reaches the floor, and all of a sudden, I'm unsure.
I'm not pretty, I'm thin. I have no shape. Years of starving myself is clear on my body.
Then he breaks away, and kisses my belly.
"You're perfect," he whispers.
I close my eyes, and I believe it.
I believe him. I believe I'm perfect.
So I wrap my arms around his body, and let him go on.
YOU ARE READING
In Pieces
Short StoryI didn't want to destroy him. I was afraid I would break him into pieces. And add him to the list of people I've broken. There's too many on that list. Too many.
