Maybe it was my choice of music.
She said it was smooth and took her to a place where she used to feel pure.
. . . I poured the champagne.
Mine tasted, well. . . I thought it was from being so close to her that my head began to lightly swim. The music poured into my ears and melted straight into my soul.
Eyes began to blur slightly. . .
Stupid grin.
/
What a headache!
She took my watch. . . but . . . it was worth it. No woman had ever affected me like she did.
She didn't need drugs ~ she IS a drug.
There is no lesson to be learned here.
I'm going for a walk!
