HOPELESSLY HIS

When he's gone, the ache is unbearable. Every detail haunts me—the roughness of his hands, the strength of his tattooed arms, the way his curls catch the light, that devastating smile with its dimples. His eyes that made everything else fade away.

He was always the most captivating man I'd ever known. I crave the raspy sound of his voice, the way he commanded my name, how we clashed and sparked. That night we danced in the darkness of my room, tangled together when nobody understood what we were. The electricity of his kiss still burns through me.