Heat, torturous heat, presses against my lungs, fills my blood. My lips part. I feel parched. I look up and he’s right in front of me and I do nothing. I do nothing as I watch his throat move. I do nothing as my eyes devour him. I feel faint. I study the sharp line of his jaw, the gentle slope where his neck meets shoulder. His lips look soft. His cheekbones high, his nose sharp, his brows heavy, gold. He is finely made. Beautiful, strong hands. Short, clean nails. I notice he wears a jade ring on his left pinkie finger. He sighs.
