I knew that the second I saw you across the bar, I was going to fall under your spell for the countless time. Your eyes twinkled back at me and you gave me that goofy grin of yours as if to say,
“I told you so”.
You knew that I was going to be there that night. That all you had to do was whisper sweet nothings into my ear as I shook my head, rolled me eyes and said,
“I hate you”.
I’d like to think I was stronger than that. Than to fall back into a night of drunken kisses and smirks full of secrets neither of us will ever tell. I wasn’t. And you knew that.
Your lips tasted like too much tequila and bad intentions but my heart was screaming for more, one more taste, one more night.
But you see the thing is, the “last time” is never the last time.
Not with us.
And it’s not until the morning that my heart aches as my eyes flutter open, seeing your arms around me. The realization that the magic of us ends here once the sun shines through my shabby blinds.
All I am left with is an empty bed and wondering how many one more nights my heart can take.