I want to share a glass of wine with Arno. I want to watch him pick it up and gently press it against his lips. After taking a sip or two, he would remove it and pass it over to me. His gaze, as it meets mine, would be soft and he would smile. “What are you staring at amour?” He would ask curiously. Rather than the glass, I would reach out, take his hand in mine and speak with a smile in return. “You.” A small chuckle would have been heard before the two us would lean forward against the table and share a kiss until we were drunk on both the wine and on our love.

Confession [@x-klamstrakur]