Maria.
He kept talking, his voice a constant pressure against my ears, questions spilling one after another, sharp and demanding, never giving me room to breathe, never giving me space to answer. Each time I tried to gather my thoughts, to form even a single word, his lips would descend on mine again, stealing not just my voice but my air, my strength, my balance.
Every kiss left me weaker.
Not because I wanted it, no, that wasn't it, but because my body betrayed me in ways I hated. My knees softened. My fingers curled uselessly at my sides. My heart thudded wildly against my ribs as if it didn't understand fear the way my mind did. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating, like being trapped in a storm I hadn't chosen to stand in.
He kissed me like he was trying to prove something. Like he was trying to erase something.
