Addictive. It was the word that rolled from the tip of her tongue whenever she was asked to describe him. Intoxicating was the word she used when she went into detail about how one kiss from him left her gasping for more, how one touch sent her head spinning. Passionate was what she called the way he loved her, reckless and bold and dangerous. Bending the rules to his will and breaking them if he felt like it. She said addictive and meant destructive. Intoxicating when her heart screamed toxic. Passionate when she knew it was unhealthy, the way she had changed the moment she had blinked and he had stormed into her life in the matter of a heartbeat. She begged “don’t leave me” when she wanted to shout “please help me”. How could she leave him when he was all she’d ever known?”

- Now that she got used to living inside a hurricane, how would she ever feel comfortable feeling nothing but a soft breeze on her skin?

Words by Nina J

Photographer: Miron Chomacki
Model: Sabina Wrotny