Kiss.

Friday evening drinks. Way past midnight. He’s sitting so close to her it makes her mouth run dry. Her mind compensates her silence as it overflows with words, so many beautiful things she wants to say. His eyes, they make her feel right at home, in the middle of this abandoned café. His arms the bed in which she sleeps, his voice the music she listens to. Bathing in his love, feeding herself on the stories he tells. Her lips are drawn to his as he smiles encouragingly, asking her to come home. Asking her to open the front door and walk inside. Towards more than just friends. Towards a honey-flavored life. Kiss me, baby. And when she brushes her lips against his, their hands intertwine. Two souls gently melting into unison.           – Froe ❤

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