He’s like glittering alcohol to me, not the drink, but the feeling after; that warm blur of courage and chaos, the world tilting just enough to glow. When he’s near, my pulse forgets restraint, edges soften, rules dissolve. He doesn’t touch me, he intoxicates me, each word, a slow swirl in my veins. And when he’s gone, the air feels sober, too sharp, too clear, and I’m left chasing the shimmer he left behind.