Some days you just need to be pushed against a wall and kissed. My hand around your wrist, pinning you, gentle, but firm. Because you fight everything else like a fucking badger. These days, you’re an electrical problem buried behind the drywall.
I don’t want it right now. I want to leave you breathless so you want it later. When I come home to you, and when that messy brain underneath the hair I just ruined has come home, too.