It was a night with a woman stranger to him that has turned his life into a rollercoaster of searching and craving.
She has seized every part of him in just a night while she looked stray and confused by her surroundings. And he was there to be her guide-- her companion -- for what she calls a get-to-know-what-is-bar night.
They were supposed to only talk. Him, telling her what to drink for starters and what's not to do inside the bar.
But when midnight rolls in they found each other on the bed. With himself claiming her, lost in her moans, drowned by her beauty, and addicted to every part of her body.
Mirrow is certain the night they shared was making love and not just a moment of lust. Something that Mirrow wanted to treasure and remember in his mind, in the shelter of his private life.
Not be secretly recorded and shared.
Now, the night they shared is there seen by he fucking don't know how many but he cares less about it when the woman who was with him is nowhere to be found.
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