“Are you sure it wasn’t real?” I whisper, my breaths coasting along his face. There’s a distant sort of scratching sound, and a glance down shows him digging his nails into the brick. His eyes fall shut, and the tip of a tongue pokes out, dampening the plush pink flesh of his lips. “It c-can’t be.” I frown, rocking my forehead against his. “Then why…why am I sober right now, and I still want this?” My voice cracks, betraying me. “Why?”
