“Idalia, I haven’t been able to sleep in these last few days. I’m kept awake by the thought of you, of your skin. Jealous of the hair that drapes over your shoulders. Envious of the wind and how often it wraps itself around you. I would choose death— gladly choose death—if only to touch you. Just once. To hold your cheek. And trace your lips. To drag my tongue over every single part of you. Because if you really want to know what I believe, it’s that a life of being robbed of your skin against mine for even a second longer is a fate far worse than death. To not have you by my side, a misery
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