It only works best like this.

I'll Hold My Breath - Ellie Goulding

Drinks came cold with cubes of crystal voices on a seemingly fierce mission to annoy. When we decided it wasn't going to tingle our skin and rattle our insides, we find ourselves reaching for higher volumes. Then the music drops and suddenly it's whispering again and the soft collisions of ice as I swirl them with a lazy wrist. And it is over this, do I lean in and admit, I do crave for your skin on mine. For our hairs to dance to the electricity that rages in the paper-thin space between our chests, the exact way it did five frames ago. And to cleanly dispel the almost-daily involuntary trembling whenever I recreate the way you move in painful detail (like the way your clothes seem to have you in a loose embrace, reluctantly holding on. Or the way you hunch just slightly like it was important that you heard your footsteps a little better). Come fuel fires until they lick clouds and turn skies into pyro wonderlands.