My consolidated nightmare. Ruche N.

- You have already kissed at least once - he mockingly twisting his lips, - or do you write stupid fairy tales in your stories? “Not your business,” I snapped out of habit. And he also, most likely, out of the old habit, does not leave me alone and continues to mercilessly sting. - Who will read your romantic stories if you have no idea what desire is. I am silent. I cover my ears so as not to hear. But he takes a step, wraves my palms with his own, takes them to the sides, presses me against the wall and, looking at my lips, insinuatingly interested in: - Maybe you will try? And I will help you.