He's not any gentler; his hands find her waist as he pushes her back against the wall, breathing her in, memorizing each little detail because heaven knows he's never had anything permanent besides his memory (and even that's dubious).
Everything is keen, blurred but clear, and the taste of liquor on her tongue only serves to make him just a tad crazier.
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Everything is keen, blurred but clear, and the taste of liquor on her tongue only serves to make him just a tad crazier.