#100lovers

I fear your lips as much as you fear the worsening crack of the spine of your favourite book. It surprises me how well the pages are still holding together even after repeatedly reading it to me for days on end. You are much of a cynic as I am a idealist– an odd combination, our friends would say. We both secretly enjoy our back and forth wrangling over the littlest of things, only you and I are both too stubborn to admit. You know the only way I’d give up an argument was to succumb to your touch. I’d run my fingers through the valley between your shoulders, tugging at the bronze curls you always hated as you bring your chapped lips against my neck, sending electric currents through my veins and flame to my lungs, enough to bring me to life.