Emil on top of me, his breath heavy on my neck. As our eyes met and held, the playfulness turned into something else entirely, something with a lot more heat. Emil leaned in, barely brushing his lips against my own he whispered, “We were good at this then too.”
As his soft lips met mine, my entire body felt molten—liquid and hot, moving seamlessly with his.
Emil stood on the other side, bags under his
eyes, his hair disheveled. I’d never seen him look so
unkempt. He actually seemed depressed. I motioned
for him to come in. When he did, I shut the door and
he followed me to the couches.
Did you have a good nap?" Emil asked.
"Yeah, I guess I was tired. I need to practice resting when I go on vacations instead of getting stressed out."
"Why are you stressed?" Emil Asked, perplexed. This question confirmed it for me, guys really are idiots.
Mots clés humor
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