Freya's standing against the cold brick, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. The moisture of her breathless pants makes a soft cloud in front of her. I walk over and stop just in front of her until her eyes open up and meet mine. Then, it's like all rationality has been sucked from the air. We collide together in a messy, raw fumble of chaos but it's every fucking thing I've waited on since she pranced her way into town. I can hate her tomorrow.
