forty don't believe on destiny.

in his experience, destiny has been a bitch to him and sister since day one. a bitch that just won't go away no matter how hard he try to invest to others, to business, to himself, to anything.

then there's you. destiny gives him you. and his life was never the same after that night, that very moment you come up to him in that bus stop asking for a light to that cigarette between your lips.

you've become a season to his day. his personal summer buddy and autumn he could fall for. a seasoning to his ever so confusing slice of life. a wave to his earth. the perfume that completes his routine. the nicotine he needs against his lips.

vanilla on your skin. strawberry on your hair. cherry on your lips. a bursting sweetness and joy in your laughter. long nights, daydreams. sugar and smoke rings. headlights, on him. racing to 60. blue eyes, black jeans. lighters and candy. bubbles and kaleidoscopes.

your eyes at his lips, and he could already feel your kiss, already imagined how it would be, where he would hold you at, how tight he would hold you, how hard he would kiss you, how hard it would be for him to breathe, to calm down, to let you go.

for the first time in his life, he forgot that he's ever addicted to drugs. because right now, he felt so light in the inside and everything is just so slow, so colorful.

and that all just by having you in his arms, slow dancing with you under the incandescent lights.