30

‘’Go fuck yourself. You’re a cold bastard and I curse the day you stopped me from being thrown in the river.’’ I turn to storm off, but he catches my wrist and hauls me back, meeting my slapping hands and just deflects them, pulling me close as he silences me with another kiss. Only this time it’s not like the one from before, it’s softer, smoother and more like the kiss from the bar. Wrapping his arms around me as he lifts me up into him and runs a hand around my jaw to pull me closer. It’s almost tender, hitting my craving need for someone to make me feel better and despite myself and my fury, I weaken to him almost instantly. Like it’s a weird power he has and I can’t fight it.

Losing myself and letting go of my hurt, I kiss him back. Faced with less aggression and some tiny need in me wanting this somehow. A pathetic craving for little hints of affection, someone to make me feel like I matter.

I kiss him a