MORIA
I think my brain is broken.
It won’t work.
Won’t make me move even though that is what I need it to do.
Won’t come up with anything other than screaming the same words at me over and over again.
He’s shirtless and I’m half naked.
That’s it.
That’s the extent of what my brain cells are capable of churning out at the moment.
He’s shirtless and he’s touching me…holding me up, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other gripping my arm.
He’s holding me and touching me and staring at me,
my hair now undone and spilling all over his arms.
And it is almost like every shred of intelligence I possess has chosen this exact moment to take a break and fail me.
Am I breathing?
I’m not sure.
It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.
If I had thought he would be good looking wearing noth
