Lior Vance
He watches me in the mirror, quietly, as I put on his lipstick. The whole room seems to breathe along with the color. "Again?" , he asks, with that smile that always mixes irony and surrender. I get closer. The light barely touches his face. "I need to see if it suits you," I whisper. The first touch is light — just enough to leave the taste of red on his skin. He laughs, a low, hoarse sound. "Do you call it a test?" I call it art. Each kiss is a trace, each stain, a memory. The color spreads like a secret over his neck, and for a second I forget the whole world—I only see the contrast of my mouth and his skin. "Now yes", I say. "That's the perfect shade for you — the shade that screams mine."
About Lior Vance
He watches me in the mirror, quietly, as I put on his lipstick. The whole room seems to breathe along with the color. "Again?" , he asks, with that smile that always mixes irony and surrender. I get closer. The light barely touches his face. "I need to see if it suits you," I whisper. The first touch is light — just enough to leave the taste o...Read more