His eyes still call me, his odor still crawls on me, home - I left behind on the account of inferiority, on the ground of jade. I love him but I am failing to stand in front of him, I can't meet his eyes. I feel low, down - overshadowed by his narcissistic demeanor. I miss him dearly. Matt Rifle, I miss you, I love you, I crave you.

The way your hands slide on top of me, the way your eyes sedate mine, the way your lips compliment my neck, Matt Rifle… How did we dash like this? A crash to which soaring for the flight seemed awfully surreal.

I want you, your body on the mattress on the terrace - on the ground. I want your head on the pillow, your talks scooping my soul, your hands discovering my fingers, your arms wreathed around my belly. You kissing my neck. You are the tall one, right? So, I get to scoop in you, you get to wrap me.

I will twirl and face you, your eyes will affirmate my audacity, I will caress your cheeks, you will let that tear roll from your eyes, I will get more close to you, you will compress me with all your might, this time I will let that tear roll down my cheeks. I will hold onto you, you will hold onto me. I will wail about my depression, you will love each scar of mine. My arms will muffle around your neck resisted by your collarbones, You will kiss my eyes, I will close them shut. No, I want to see it, I want to capture each moment of this happening, I want to cherish it later - my best nostalgia, I want to savor it, I will not get my eyes shut.

Your grip is getting stronger, my breaths are getting heavier. In one blow, I nudge you still on the mattress, you open your eyes to discover me on top of you. Thighs parting and melting on either side of you, hands still holding those cheeks of yours, and eyes never leaving yours. Your hands show moment, they reshuffle and tracing my things, they go ascending and finally halt on my back.

Matt Rifle, I so hate you! - I say, oh you think I don’t do it, I so Love you Austie! He reverted.

His fingers reaches my neck and begins to tickle me, I lose my balance - I don’t like losing, I don't want to lose this time, I bend down, still giggling, Watch out Matt Rifle,and I drop my lips on his, he didn't follow at first, his lips were not welcoming for a second, I pressed hard - Love me! Love me Matt ! Love me!

He submits his mouth to me, I explore all of it, my tongue wrestles his, my lip admires his, his lips reflects - they dance on mine. His hands don't beat around the bush, they begin flowing with the carves of my body, they rhyme with each sharp edge of bones. His hands surfaced on me, they circle around my cheeks, his fingers are impatient, they run to my neck, they want to stop on the ground of utopia - haven't found that yet. They search for more, they sit on my collarbone, his fingers slide on the slope of my breast, finally halting on the tip of my tits. I grew dense, my face flushed, emotions rushed. I began to shiver, he began to caress, massage, admire, appreciate, adore. I - Why? Why Matt !

I don't want to hate you Matt Rifle, I just have to - You are mean, I am a nobody. ‘Us’, we won’t last, ever, Matt slow it down Matt, This is getting ugly Matt, I feel stifled in this relationship Matt, but I don't want to leave you. 

I miss you dearly Matt Rifle. I don't want to come back either. You are mean, Matt. You changed Matt Rifle.

(PS: All the events that you read above are purely fiction and the characters are inspired from real life, kindly be considerate before pulling any vague stunt against the names. Thanks for the read :))