paris, we meet again 

I may never meet you again, but the scent of your skin is forever embedded in my neurological synapses.. the feel of your breath against my neck flirting with every single hair follicle, your arms are around my waist and I don’t know what to do.. I’m at my wit’s end. 

I suck at flirting, and I’m drunk, and you’re gorgeous.  

Fuck, why I do get myself into these impossible situations? 


Paris, France 

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