It’s a hot summer day and I can feel his eyes on me from across the room.
I’m wearing this black dress with white roses printed all over it. The fabric is thin, and it stops way above my knees, high enough to reveal the birth mark I have on my thigh. My hair used to go all the way down to my waist, but having recently cut it short it now reaches my shoulders, but just barely. I can tell by the way he stares that he likes the change. I’ve been feeling anxious for a while now and I must admit that he does bring a smile to my lips, as always. Being desired by him sends a chill down my spine in the msot wonderful way possible. I steal a glance at him afetr a while; he’s sitting at the bar, taking a drag from his cigarette, wearing a suit and looking handsome as ever; The jacket is missing though, and the leeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows. His blond hair is a mess, sticking up on all sides. When his eyes meet mine he smirks and I shake my head, look down at my own drink and pretend not to care. We go way back. He was the first man I’ve ever been with.