She tasted of gunpowder and roses, just as beautiful and just as dangerous. She was smokes and mirrors. A reflection within a reflection, a forbidden act. She was ferociousness and tenderness in the same breath.
In the moment as we sat on that bench, my body ached for her. She was too much and too little at the same time. Much more than what she thought and much less than what I was making her out to be. She was untamed, unchained and unhinged.
Her pain was fueling the fire in her belly. I knew I could get burned. I knew I had to tread with caution but damn she was worth the burns.
And so I jumped.
To fall into her.