Flaw Salad

Three days into the new year, I kissed him in the falling snow. He was timid, and I was endeared. He shivered beneath his coat, and I’d come to learn how he shivered his way through winter. Chronically cold.

I brought him home and listened to his stories of heartbreak and childhood ache. He said harsh things and beautiful things and strange things, and the more he revealed, the more I needed to know. I dove into him. Hours on my sofa and hours in my sheets. He was bottomless.

We slept beside each other, and I awoke to an almost-stranger, a someone I’d only begun to know. My bleary morning eyes found his, and he moved toward me. His lips met mine with unexpected force, and I was surprised by the hunger, the need.

“I waited all night to kiss you again.”

Real affection. A crack in his careful veneer. I began my fall.