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January 24, 2003
"The shape of your lips is the perfect counterpart to mine." He brushed my lips with his thumb. "So it is destined for me to kiss you."

I knew I should be immune to lines like that but he said it so confidently I found myself leaning into his kiss. And he was right. It was a perfect fit.

"You taste just like warm butterscotch." He said, his voice gruffer than it was a minute before, his hands gently cupping my face. "I think I need to taste you again."

So I let him, after all, you can't fight destiny.