..well, I'd just prefer to leave some to the imagination. It's always so much more fun that way.My love letter, I placed behind every other letter, b...ll, and all that jazz sent through snail mail. Most of it was shit.As I stepped through the door of my house, in which I lived alone, that aroma hit me like a wall. It enveloped and teased me, pulled and played with my senses. That damned cologne...and I was quite sure the love letter hidden behind the crapload of junk mail -- its scent wasn't. ‘We’re not gonna make it!’ ‘Yes we are.’ He grabs me and pushes me against the wall just before the car rushes past us, his body pressed against the back of mine, shielding me from any harm. Once it’s a fair distance away he backs up and steady’s me, gliding his hands up and down my arms. ‘You okay?’ he asks, breathing heavy. ‘Yeah,’ I say almost panting, completely winded. I exhale hard and press my head against his body, burying my face in his chest. He holds the back of my head until I calm. More

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