ᴜɴᴅᴏɴᴇ | ᴅ.ᴍ

He stared at me for a minute longer, tilting his head to the side as he watched me.

For the first time I wanted him to kiss me, I wanted him to lean in and press his lips against mine, to touch me and completely devour me right here, on this damn desk.

I know he was aware I was thinking this - the way he was looking at me with his eyes tracing down at me, he was an excellent legilimens.

Love and hate are both rooted in passion, so what's the difference?