There is electricity between you and me, a sort of electricity that tingles and burns and draws us together time and time again. We are like magnets that collide in a shower of sparks and jagged edges, only to be pulled apart so we may collide again.
It’s the same electricity that courses through my body when you smile, the same tingle that runs wild when you laugh. It’s the same pleasantly dangerous shock wave that shakes me to the core when we argue, when I see the heat in your eyes and feel you tensing beneath me and hear the bite in your voice. It’s the same sparks that fly when my fingers brush yours, when my open palm runs along your bare skin, when my teeth scrape the hollow of your neck.
These are the sparks I live for, the prickling heat and the thrilling intensity. What we have is something electric, something delicious, a heady mix of wild passion and intoxicating unpredictability.
There is electricity between you and me, but I fear for the day when the simple sparks become a fire.
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