26. Love´s an excuse to get hurt and to hurt. Do you like to hurt? I do, I do! - THEN HURT ME.

You were everywhere. I had not seen you for months but I still remember your mighty apperance as I kissed those cherrytasting lips of his. He whispered sweet drunken nothings in my ear, I lauged but he looked at me straight and was dead serious. So I pretended to be aswell.


She remebered his breath that tasted like cherries and that his five-a-clock-shadow had made marks all around her lips. Noone was to blame. She loved this feeling. Or so she thought. The sun rised on the wrong side of the city and she knew what she had done but her stonecold heart had no need for an excuse anymore. She wanted more and he kissed her, he kissed her on the lips exacly 23 times. This scene would repeat itself about 4-5 times a week for a long time. Her hair had grown down her waist. She layed beside him with her face pressed against the pillow and as he awoke he started to kiss her neck and shoulderblades.
The feeling was inmense and slightly breathtaking.
She turned her head and faced him. Ran her fingertips against his beard that had grown for just about a week. It was itchy, black and she was amusing herself with it. He smiled and looked into her eyes and she could see that he had fallen for her. He continued to kiss her everywere, making sure that he did not leave an inch of her skin unkissed. He was kissing the tip of her nose when she finally had enough and pulled him closer, kissing his lips for the second or hundred time.
The strings of morninglight were piercing thru her windows and they lauged as they knew that nothing was forever even if it might aswell been eternities that they layed there beside each other breathing the air of future nostalgia. They stopped breathing. Kissed a little bit more. He was leaving for the week, leaving her and somehow she convinced herself that this was the last time she would see him.
Even if he was her substitute, her nothing and she was still obsessing on her everything supposoably waiting for her on the other side of the horizons she thought to herself that she could still give him a final spectacle. Making anything she wanted out of this moment. This moment that maybe never would come back. This time when no confusion, mindgames or uncertainties existed. It was just him, who was crazy about her and she, who knew that he would follow her every move.