Perfect

I walked in with a bottle of whisky, he flashed a smile. Didn't I promise. He was laying on an unmade bed. His arm under his head, blue eyes twinkling. Smoke flew like moths from his lips. I kicked of my shoes, threw myself next to him and saw a grin appearing on his face. Pry your eyes from the phone I said, I'm not here to drink alone. How I wanted to just sneak in a kiss, I mean the chemistry was there, I could see it when our thighs touched. His hands threw shadows against the walls as he leaned over to take his first sip. Perhaps the weed in the air was making me high, the moon seem to enter the room and everything felt too perfect.