Bliss
une
Chapped lips brush against my neck, followed by a wet tongue. I giggle and pull him closer to me, breathing in his scent (a cologne I bought him and his earthy body wash) and enjoying his proximity. We’ve been together for three months, and I cannot get enough of him and his copper eyes, eyes that make me melt. And his lips that drive me insane, much like they are now. He pulls away and surveys the damage, before quietly muttering, “You’ll need to wear a scarf tomorrow.” I laugh again. This is what love feels like. Bliss.