He yelled at me the moment I went into my room. I was so fucking pissed off, and all I could think about was leaving that verry second.
The door to my room slamed against the frame, and suddenly I felt the crude weith of realization sink on my shoulders.
I let myself on the bed and pull my knees up to my chest. Inevitably the tears began to slide dow my cheek to my pillow. I hated him, I hated myself. But the truth was that I still was so fucking in love with him. Couldn't deny it.
"Please... let me in" He said through the door, his voice was soft and sweet I almost felt so confused... but there was no confusion.
I loved him.
The moment I opened the door, he steped in, grab my arms and looked at me directly to my eyes. His mouth was half-open and ready to kiss me, but wouldn't. His breath was warm against my neck, his tongue played with my skin and it felt so dammed good.
I closed my eyes, grabed him by the back of his t-shirt and desperately pulled him closer to me. My body craved for him so bad, and my soul could not imagine living without him.
I love him.
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