When he registered me the next row over, there was a satisfying stumble to his step before he caught himself, neutralized his features, and continued toward the front. Later, Farrow. That didn’t stop me from watching his progress, though, or the ridiculous intrusive thoughts that accompanied. I wondered if he kissed the way he walked. If that swagger reached those full fucking lips, and how easily they’d give beneath mine. I wondered what he tasted like.
