The door closed, cutting off the roar of the world. Inside, there was only the sound of our ragged breathing and the constant drip of water falling from our clothes onto the wooden floor. Marco set me on my feet, but his hands didn't let me go. They trembled lightly against my waist, not from cold, but from an emotion so raw I could feel it vibrating in each tip of his fingers.
His eyes, darker than the night outside, searched my face as if memorizing every line, every drop of rain. Then, he bent down and his lips found mine.
It wasn't a kiss. It was an affirmation. A possession. A desperation and a promise mixed into a single act. His lips were cold from the rain, but inside they were warm, voracious. He kissed me like a starving man, like a castaway finding land. And I responded in kin
