Manifested that shit.
I shrug?—
casually,
nonchalantly,
so not desperate.
“Drew. We said sleep only.”
He takes another step closer
and shrugs. “Yeah—fuck. I lied, alright?”
He wets his bottom lip.
“Now I’m sayin’ I wanna eat your pussy.”
His eyes haven’t left mine?—
intense, fierce, cracked open.
A slow-burn stare
that’s already stripped me bare in his head,
touched me a thousand different ways,
imagined every taste.
He’s not hiding the desperation,
can’t control it any longer.
His jaw’s clenching,
already tasting how I’ll come for him.
My nerves rise up under his gaze,
and I scramble to take back control;
steel my spine, lift my chin,
pretend I’m not two seconds from melting.
I stand as if I own this moment,
even if it owns me.
The air’s a live grenade,
pin pulled and bracing.
He’s five feet away now.
Then four feet.
