Robert

Robert

by Abigail

I have had just enough liquid grief. Someone comes up and buys a shot for themselves and one for me and I can't pass because I don't want to drink anymore. Maybe that's why I sighed softly when he pushed me against a wall and confessed that he feels he's disappearing even as our hips met. He doesn't know that he isn't. That he's very real beneath my hand, his heart beating in his throat when I palm his neck. When we were sliding against each other. When my lips are pressed to his and he says Abigail like that.

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