Make Out Alright

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

We stood there, at the unofficial border between the dining room and the living room, holding onto each other. You might’ve thought a million things would race through my mind. Maybe normally they would. But I stood there gradually stretching each finger on my right hand to try to relieve the cramp and letting all my attention, all my brainpower, be on the physical reality of Ziggy in my arms. The scent of his skin and fabric softener, the rhythm of his breath.

His voice was hesitant. “Tell me what you’re feeling?”

“Terrified,” I answered.

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