Her lips leave a ruby red imprint on his cheek. He smiles and sips at his cocktail as she purrs, every so gently. Fairly certain that she is as drunk as she is – not terribly, just that perfect state of lowered inhibitions – he hands her a sweet cocktail. A bit too sweet to his tastes. Unlike her; she’s just right. She eyes him, dressed so smartly, and a smile touches her scarlet lips. As she takes the drink from him, her hand brushes the tips of his fingers and their eyes lock. The music grows louder and they are alone in the midst of their dancing friends. His hand caresses her arm, barely touching, slowly upwards. Her dress leaves just enough to the imagination and she smiles an enigmatic smile as he drinks her in with his eyes. Their lips touch. For a moment, the music seems to cease completely; just them, nothing more.
Their bodies begin to dance once more and they loose themselves in the vibes and in each other.
This we offer.
Tes fruits, mon jus
Los van de ietwat ranzige naam, een feestje in Gent. Meer details volgen mogelijk nog, hoewel ik betwijfel of ik zelf aanwezig kan zijn.
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