"Why do bad ideas always feel so good?" I ask with a wheezy laugh, as the sunrise I wanted to see so badly warms up my skin,
Wintergreen simmers on my tongue, and the perfect ache of Andrew's beautiful hands pulse between my legs.
All he can do is shake his head and laugh along with me. "I have no fucking clue."I still don't really know what just happened.
But, as weird as this sounds, now doesn't really feel like the right time to talk about it.
Andrew and I are sitting in a sunlit bubble of silence, and for a change, the usual antagonistic tension is absent.
It's easy to sit here, not quite cuddling him but not quite not cuddling him, either, and just breathe in sync as the sun keeps sliding up the sky like an over easy egg.
Andrew shifts beside me, adjusting the blanket that's slipped off my shoulder. His fingers brush my collarbone and I shiver, not from cold this time.
"You good?" he asks.
