In The Coffee Shop Next To Lost Leaf

When we walked in, he was bathed in the light of some random bulb, strumming the strings of his turquoise guitar. I watched his brows furrow as he wrote small songs.

Every once in a while, he'd glance up at me with his half cocked smile and I felt my face flush, I couldn't help but admit I adored him.

I watched her suck him off in the abandoned building of our favorite coffee shop.

His moans making my hips writhe, left alone to my own devices, hearing the air mattresses strain under the weight of their two bodies.

I closed my eyes and listen to the commotion of the bar next door, smoothe jazz ozzed from under the floor boards, it was nice to be fucked to a good sound track.

The next morning my hands still smell like ciggerettes and my tongue is still sore from burning it on my chai tea.

And the vibration of his voice and the glimmer of her smile, the gentle kisses on my head fill my mind and make my heart flutter in a way thats almost pathetic.

When I woke up in the morning I was surprised it wasnt a dream.