we lay on the bed, wrapped in each other, arms and legs a damn tangled mess. your electro-synth pop with its brilliant indie twist danced around in the background and mellowed. the room was choked with smoke, the air breathing thick into our lungs. i felt you, and i was almost certain i shouldn't, that i should feel guilty for even considering the thought. but i didn't, and the feelings that i did have were so fuckedup-wonderful that i never wanted to leave.
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