A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. She found herself trying on the baubles he brought home, placing the silver rings upon her slim fingers, knowing that he would take up her hand and kiss it. “But I must, I will,” he answered fiercely. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position. “You’re exactly as I remember you!” “Forever fifteen, remember?” She stepped closer to him into the light of the television screen.
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