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“His face is close to mine and he's radiating heat. I can't look at him because if I do I'm afraid I'll snuggle into him. He tilts up my chin. His eyes are filled with concern. "Are you angry?" It's not anger that's pumping through me. The feeling is kind of like that first glass of whiskey. It burns in my chest, warms my stomach, makes me a bit queasy.” — Tallulah Lucy
His face is close to mine and he's radiating heat. I can't look at him because if I do I'm afraid I'll snuggle into him.
He tilts up my chin. His eyes are filled with concern. "Are you angry?"
It's not anger that's pumping through me. The feeling is kind of like that first glass of whiskey. It burns in my chest, warms my stomach, makes me a bit queasy.