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10 stories found
The humidity in Grant Park felt like a breach of contract, a heavy, suffocating weight that made every inch of skin feel litigious and over-sensitized.
!["You’ve Been Holding Your Breath Since the Lobby"](https://miscd.fra1.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium/"you’ve-been-holding-your-breath-since-the-lobby"-583-cover-1783814453050.jpg)
The humidity in St. Barts was a physical weight, much like the expectation that I would remain composed while Kieran dismantled my autonomy.
My billable hour is four hundred and fifty dollars, yet I’m standing in a basement in Pienza letting a man tell me I’m incompetent.
I had spent my career teaching people how to hold themselves together, but in that sterile hotel suite, I only wanted to be dismantled.
You leaned over the workstation, your forearms dusted with 00 flour, and I realized then that you enjoyed being corrected.
He adjusted the key light, the barn doors casting a trapezoid of shadow across her ribs that looked like a bruised wing.
You didn’t just want my obedience; you wanted the specific way my breath caught when the leather met the back of my thighs.
He didn't ask for permission to touch the small of my back; he claimed it as though he had already seen the deed of title.
Her skin is the color of expensive stationery and I am about to ruin the margin with every mark I leave.
I watched you bite your lip when the minister mentioned 'forever,' and I knew then that your knees were already bruised from me.