She tastes like sunrise. Like new and hope and familiar. He melts into her touch and drinks the promise from her tongue with lips dancing with want. His fingers twist into the gold of her hair, soft silk that he tugs simply because he can.
Even when they part - especially when they part - there is a static to the air that lives and moves with them, filling the space between them until there is none. She smiles. He laughs. They fall into each other and he wraps his arms around the delicacy of her waist, hipbones beautiful and fragile beneath his fingertips.
He stares into the emerald of her eyes and bathes in the feelings she emits. It feels like coming home.
YOU ARE READING
Excerpts From Books I'll Never Write
RandomThis is a small collection of excerpts I've come up with over the years that either were not used or were simple writing exercises. In some cases this does include fanfiction excerpts (all of which can be interpreted as seen fit, I just felt no obli...
