We talked--recent history only--and Lucas relayed the story of how Francis came to be his roommate. "He showed up at the door one night, demanding to be let in. Napped on the sofa for an hour, then demanded to be let out. It turned into a nightly ritual, with him staying longer and longer, until at some point I realized he'd moved in. He's basically the most brazen squatter ever.

I say I don't believe in love, but that's not really true - love is just the name of an emotion. It's like on steroids. It's lust with ethics.

Please touch me. I need you to touch me.

Wait." "Stop?" I bit my lip and nodded. "Stop everything, or just go no further?" "Just...just no further." "Done." He gathered me into his arms and kissed me, one hand tangled in my hair and the other one caressing down my back, our hearts pulsing out a cadence that the musician in me translated into a concert of lust.

And I’m okay, I really am, most of the time. But sometimes, I’m just not.

I was sure you 'd dropped the class, which made me selfishly ecstatic. Without even knowing i was doing it, i started looking for you on campus.

Wow, that sounds total stalker." Or totally hot. God.