My Generation Is from Another Country
“So,” he whispers over the phone in a voice like melted chocolate, “how long have you lived here?” I can imagine his eyes glinting in the starlight, darker than sin and even fuller, and…he has…
“So,” he whispers over the phone in a voice like melted chocolate, “how long have you lived here?” I can imagine his eyes glinting in the starlight, darker than sin and even fuller, and…he has…