JUNE THIRD
It's strange how I have this precious feeling for the cup of coffee in my hand. It was so delicious that I could finish it in one swing, but I'd rather take slow sips to prolong its lifespan and the memories it reminds me of.
Walking into my bedroom with a smile, a coffee, and a hand on my lips, reminiscing the delight of how it felt when Duncan sucked on it last night. I lean and rest my head on the door after closing it.
Damn, the places he had touched on my body; even I myself hadn't known them that well.
"Where are you from?"
I jumped at the voice, my heart beating fast even though it was Grace's voice. But, to my surprise, my grip on the cup was so strong that not a drop was spilled.
Turning around, I exhaled, leaning my back against the door for a moment. "Nowhere."
