Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

just made me realize...”
When she trails off, I pull back until our noses graze each other, waiting
for more. “What?”
“I barely know you,” she says, and though it’s delivered with as much
softness as she can muster, I don’t miss the implication hidden beneath its
surface. The accusation still rife in her tone, as if she wants to believe in me,
but can’t fully bring herself to.
Sucking in my next breath feels like trying to swallow hot coals, and I
release it slowly through my nose, focusing on the steady thump of her pulse
beating at the base of her throat.
My tongue is thick when I speak, an obstacle I have to talk around. “What
do you want to know?”
Somehow, before she even opens her mouth again, I know her answer’s
going to be everything.