I can feel the winter in my bones, approaching me like a thunder in a storm.
I fell for your advances in winter, a very cold and mean one. We both were a bit off, out of our usual selves. I remember my drink as if I'd taken it yesterday.
It was so cold not even alcohol could help my shivers, your trembling.
The eternal embrace your sweet soul gave me was so addictive I'm still yearning for it to happen again. Your cologne was intoxicating enough.
Outside the building there were buses, cars. So many families and so little friends. It felt surreal, given the circumstances, the timing.
You didn't let go of me for exactly five minutes. I didn't want it to stop, but I felt unsure out of nowhere. What does this feeling mean? Am I being reasonable with myself?
The cold made the streets look eternal. I could barely see the sun in the horizon, radiating the small little world we created.
Realization hit me when you offered another drink at your place.
Then and there, I knew I'd get drunk enough into you, the beers, and the beautiful coldness still surrounding my heart. This wasn't normal affection, and it was bad. This wasn't right, we both knew it.
Still, we both refused to think too much about it hours prior. Was it too late to take a turn?
I'm still cold from that night, that almost sunrise, and that stupid, dangerous feeling.
Still, I can't hate winter. Neither your sassy flirting and choice of careful words.
It wasn't love, but it was an almost. And that wasn't even a possibility for me, for you.
You had horrible taste in beer, after all.
I said no. I had someone still on my mind whom I didn't feel afraid of loving.
Your kiss was one of the bests I ever had tho.
No wonder you were so vain, and so wonderfuly obnoxious.