Carpe diem. Memento mori. All that fucking shit.
But still.
Ten fucking days.
Then we're apart again.
And again.
It goes on for fucking ever.
Violet groans as she pulls back. "Did I already say I missed you?"
"Yeah."
"I really did." She pushes my boxers off my hips. "Tell me it gets easier."
"It doesn't."
"I know. Tell me anyway."
"You know I can't lie to you."
"Tell me something good."
"I love you."
"I love you too." She presses her palm flat against my stomach. "God, Ethan…" Her eyelids flutter closed.
She leans in and kisses me, hard.
Then she's wrapping her hand around my cock.
Fuck—
Need pours from her lips to mine.
From my lips to hers.
I can't explain this. I can't put it into words. At the moment, it's a struggle finding any coherent words.
I love Vi more than anything.
More than the band.
More than touring.
More than fucking music.
She'd never ask me to give it up.
Which is good. Cause I'm not sure I could fucking do it.
And here we are, three days from getting married, and she's dealing with the weight of that on her own.
She deserves more than that.
She deserves fucking everything.