my chest stuck.
And I’m scared.
I don’t know why. But I am.
“That breath you’re holding?” His thumb grazes my bottom lip. “Let it go, baby. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m right here. You fuckin’ got me.”
He doesn’t get it.
It’s not just sex. It’s surrender.
It’s walking straight into open water
with an anchor in my lungs?—
no raft, no lifejacket, no idea how to swim.
Not knowing if it’ll hurt.
If I’ll shut down, go corpse-still.
If I’ll leave myself behind,
or make it back to shore.
If I’ll throw up afterward.
And then it’s still walking against the current.
Terrified.
Diving in anyway.
Hoping I float.
Willing to drown.
And my heart’s wrapping both arms around the moment, refusing to let it go, even if it kills her, whispering—Fuck the air, I’ll breathe him.
And then I say it?—
"Ti voglio tanto, Andrew."
I want you so much, Andrew...
And the second it leaves my lips,
his gaze sinks into me, relieved and ruined.
The whole world stops behind his eyes.
Even his stare holds its breath
with that stupid, undone look on his face.
Across his skin, goosebumps flare fast.
Then the corner of his mouth kicks up,
