Ivan and Lydia were kissing in the hidden room in the library. Their lips moved against each other in desperation, soft yet hungry, as if both were afraid the other would vanish if they stopped. Lydia could taste the alcohol in his mouth. It was strong, bitter, heavy on his tongue. She knew he was drunk, maybe too drunk, but in that moment she did not care. All she wanted was him. All she wanted was to feel the warmth of the man who once held her heart.
Ivan pulled away, his breathing rough and uneven, but his lips did not stop. He bent his head lower, his mouth brushing the soft skin of her neck, then lower still. He kissed her back, the line of her spine, each kiss burning her more than the last. His hands trembled as he undid the laces of her dress, whispering with a broken voice, "I missed you. I missed you so much. It is too painful to live without you."
