Sacred Affection

heard, and I wondered if a pin dropping would break the silence. My gaze remained fixed on the fl

as I tried to comprehend why the man who had shattered my heart multiple times was now

et, and a pair of jean trousers, he presented a different image. His smoking habit seemed less intense, he used to be a chain smoker if I could recall; he still indulged

apping the leather with his index finger. His hands used to be much softer, delicate. Especia

and make my cheeks heat up. Instead, they were straight as a line, hardly giving my cheeks a chance to even tinge pink. And when I finally managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes, they weren't soft or angelic, like I remembered. They didn't look at me

in the ashtray like I remembered him always doing. His voice was scratchy, rougher and

lued to the floor, and once again there was a short silence, wi

he departed. How I cried for weeks on end, thinking I'd never recover. And I don't suppose

me we've sat in an uncomfortable silence. It was always uncomplicated when talking

trained. I refused to look into his lifeless eyes, knowing

ugh his words were meaningful, his tone remained nonchalant. Unbothered. Like he di

nds together, looking up to the ceiling, wishing this could end,

eplied his tone the exact same, leaning back on the sofa, crossing

ring from city to c

up straight once again, uncrossing his legs, resting his elbows on his thighs, wit

o constantly call you? Or sit around and mope abo

Of course, I didn't expect you to sit around and wait for me. But you could've dropped in. But instead

have done everything just to call you mine and to hold you, and you know what? It still wasn't enough for you" Ther

attempting to dry my eyes, an

eyes roaming my side profile, as he cautiously put an arm around my shoulders, and pulled me i

se years ago when we were younger and thought love was the answer to everything. I love

ll lo