There's a unique type of coldness I feel when he gets out of bed in the morning and leaves the covers unfurled.
"Where are you going?" I ask him, slowly turning onto my side---I remember him saying he loves how I look when I lay on my hip.
"Bathroom" he answers without turning around. He loudly itches himself as he turns on the bathroom vent...and successfully flushes all passion down the drain.
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