Crônica

And he tenderly looks at me. Staring as if I was going to be gone soon.
He cuddles me gently, with his hands around my cheek. I stare back, trembling a little. Hoping that moment was never gone.

I wanted him so hard, so badly, but something always held me back. My lips were longing to his, my arms wanted to be around him. My whole body wanted to get closer to him.

A strange noise scared us: it was the sign for me to go. None of us wanted that, but the time came. As I was leaving, he finally kissed me. That was it. The time stopped for a while. His hands on my hips, grabbing me, not allowing me to leave - I really didn't want that, though. But I did. I didn't want, but I did.

We spent the rest of the morning texting each other. Fell asleep smiling at the phone.

We met again, at his former house. As he was moving, he needed to paint his apartment to return it to the landlord. We spent the whole afternoon paiting, laughting, and talking. As we were done, we sat in his balcony, he started smoking. I felt even more attracted to him, though I hate smokers.
He grabbed his guitar and started singing to me. I guess that was when I was helpless and madly in love with him. His words were ressonating since then.

At his new place, we drank a little and listened to Pink Floyd and kissed and cuddled. I felt like an adolescent...
Once again, it was time for me to leave. He took me to the bus stop, kissed me once again, and left.
That's when I found a hidden CD at my bag.


(Please ignore the mistakes.)