Chapter Text
All her universe imploded in that first kiss, intense and furtive, behind the scenes of a forbidden drama. Condemned to perdition from the very beginning. But they bet everything they had, everything they longed for, everything they were on him.
The taste still on his lips was a Holocaust of reason that exterminated all responsibility, all prudence or decorum, leaving a wasteland that was repopulated with her with each caress shared in the dark corner of her apartment after one of the many parties at HHM.
With burning kisses, because he had started to need her almost as much as oxygen or morning coffee. Sometimes she was frightened by the turn that affair had taken in such a short time, almost without her realizing it.
Jimmy the charismatic, the enigmatic divorcee evading Cupid's relentless arrows, at odds with fortune. Dedicated to conquering the pride of his older brother, now sold to a world eager for the strength and vehemence of that infinite love that not even the course of his tumultuous past life could erase...
The mailroom worker without faith in epic passions and loves after two divorces on his shoulders.
And despite everything, he finds himself enraptured by her presence, intoxicated by her scent perfuming his pillow at dusk, and feeling a lacerating pang that tore through his insides when she left his bed and, shortly after, rejected any proposal for a serious relationship.
The noose of anxiety constricting his larynx as a guttural, exasperated groan escapes from his throat.
Unconsciously, he moistens his lower lip with his tongue, imagining the creamy texture of the graceful curve of her throat, the pulse beating with each wild throb.
Thirst for the tickle of her laughter in the sandy aftertaste stuck to the palate, in the dry and cracked lips because imagination is no longer enough while she glances at Kim from the photocopier. For not having been able to sip from the freshness of hers after a week.
Because nothing has flavor except her.
Nothing.
She was the salt... the cane sugar and the pepper in his wounds...But it is never fully satisfied... it stings, but the acid of not having her with him does not reach his skin...
...and waits, anxiously, for the next group outing. Prisoner of the perpetual chain of his need, praying to a God he does not fervently believe in, because even that, may not be the last.