It's been almost three days since I ran into that white blood cell. I still can't get him out of my head. His hands and how they wrapped around my waist, his broad chest under me. The muscles of his abdomen rippling with strength as he held me close. I can't get him out of my head. His eyes. So composed. His voice, soft but deep and caring but cold. What is wrong with me. I still feel his heartbeat against my palm when I think of him. I want his arms around me again. On my thighs and everywhere. He plagues my mind with his everything. I can't help but wonder if it felt so good to just be carried by him, to have his body under and on top of me... what would it feel like if there was more...?
