He places his fingers under my chin, lifts my head up to meet his eyes. My mind still wallows in a field of grass, weakened, tremulous. And even as he towers over me, inviting me in, smug in his seduction, the deepest part of my mind protests. The smile playing across his lips sparks a suggestive glint in his eyes and he is evil. He is evil, evil, evil, and as much as my desire belonged to him, then–now, so does my rage. My eyes burn with defiance as I meet his stare.
I will never let you win again.