He’s like black lightning, strong and powerful, frightening in his beauty. An electric outburst that hits me every time I touch his skin, burns my fingertips, in a way that’s become quite addicting. He taste like chocolate and feels like velvet, and I only say this because I love him so much. Clichés have a way of taking over my mind when I feel like this. It makes me think in song-lyrics and dress like a fairytale. It’s like a beautiful disaster. Like a thunderstorm. The light and the clashes and the booms and noises and dark clouds are so fucking beautiful, but so very dangerous at the same time.

Sometime, along the way, I fell hopelessly in love with him, before I could stop myself.

And somewhere along the way, so did he.