“I think you're right,” I reply, after considering it for 0.2 thousandths of a second. I take my hands to his raspy cheeks and get on my tiptoes so I can get to his lips and take them.
This kiss feels different from any other we've shared before, perhaps because we know it's the last one. We are putting more effort than ever before in making it good. It's not fast, sloppy and desperate like other times, it's slow and, I would even dare to say, romantic (or maybe it's just my poor heart talking).
I move my hands to his shoulders and hang on to him because my legs start to feel a little weak. Asher is as lost in the kiss as I am; he lifts me up by my thighs and puts my legs around him while his tongue plays with mine.
I've never felt anything like this before. I feel like this kiss lasts
