Winter and War

I lean closer to him, kissing his lips tenderly with my own. As I am about to pull away, he grabs my face tighter and pulls me back in for a more satisfying kiss, one with plenty of tongue and saliva, and passion. He tastes wine and rabbit

stew. I pull away finally, laughter dying on my lips.

It doesn't take long to notice the stares from the people at the table around us. Some smile, some blush, and some look away in embarrassment from being caught. Cesar just keeps eating his soup, his abnormally hot hand resting on

mine. He has no sense of embarrassment. He only takes pride in the things he has conquered. And he has, undoubtedly, conquered me.

"Na yi ta na da kyau, ma'am," Cesar speaks up in his native tongue. It sounds so rough and manly when he says the words. "Amma idan wants Daga gare ku kiyaye staring an inda zan mace kamar cewa, shi ke cabbage take cewa ba za ka

so a sakamakon. (I realize she is a beauty, yes. But if any of you keep staring at my woman like that, it's guarant