His fingers sliding onto her soft, smooth body heat. Something pure and stained. I wanted you to like it. To like me. It was like a song that gets in ...our head and you can’t get it out. He brought his fingers to his face and inhaled. He could only imagine her scent as his senses filled with Jasmine. He leaned out and craned his head toward the window on the left. Hers. Behind him was the door between their rooms. He knew it wouldn’t be locked. He closed his eyes to watch himself walk into her. My stomach is churning, although I can't tell if that's from hunger or something else.My earlier moan is followed by an inaudible, I hope, groan as I realize I'm hungover.The previous night starts filling my memory. A concert in a bar. Hot and sweaty. Hard rock. Dancing and bouncing around. Kissing you while the band played a ballad. A drunk passing out in the tiny mosh pit. Lighters and arms in the air. Shots of whiskey. Cold beers. Holding you in front of me, my desire for you pressing into. More

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