It’s funny how some people leave a mark you can’t scrub out, no matter how many nights you spend chasing other bodies, other mouths.

I lean back against the leather seat, my fingers tapping the steering wheel to no real rhythm, just needing something to do while I wait. Neon lights bleed across the dashboard, slicing the dark in wild, dangerous colors. You’re late—you always are. Likes to keep me on edge, likes to make me wonder if you’re even coming. And like a fool, I’m still here.

When the door finally swings open and you slide in, I catch a whiff of your perfume — trouble wrapped in vanilla and whatever else. My throat dries instantly. Tip of my tongue, you’re already there, pulling me in just by breathing.

“You missed me?” You tease, voice low and thick, like you already knows the answer. I don’t say anything. Just drive. Fast, reckless, the city blurring around us.

Before I know it, You’ve got your hand in my hair, tugging hard enough to make my stomach tighten. I do what you want, anywhere. Always have. Always will.

Somewhere between the stoplights and the backroads, we crash into each other — back seat of the car, your laugh filling the small space, your fingers painting bruises into my skin. It’s messy. It’s desperate. It’s so bloody good it borders on cruel.

But somewhere between the gasp you let out when I find that spot on your neck and the way you bite my shoulder to stay quiet, it hits me —

I miss how you kissed. Everywhere. Not just the easy places. Not just when you wanted something. I miss the slow parts. The sweet parts. The parts that felt like love instead of a goddamn war.

You pull away, smirking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand like I’m just another bad decision you can live with. And I let you.

Because even though this thing between us is twisted and fraying at the edges… I’d still let you ruin me a hundred times over.

“Your place or mine?” you purr, already knowing it doesn’t matter. I just smile, aching and hungry.

“Anywhere you want, love.” *I gave a half smile. We were both toxic. But we couldn’t stay away from eachother. I’d spend my entire bank account on you if you’d wanted. We fought. We screamed. We had make up sex, told eachother hateful things, it was the same things over and over like a broken record — that I loved.