Dylan opened his eyes, his head ached from having one too many the night before. He turned to the brunette who laid beside him sound asleep. He couldn't even remember her name at this point. She probably had a few passions, a sense of humor, a favorite liquor. He didn't know. To him she was just Saturday's distraction. His latest painkiller to indulge in. All he cared to know about her was that she wasn't a Blonde. If she were it would completely negate his plans to forget about a certain blonde who had him wrapped around her finger.

Speaking of that blonde. Her words still left a bitter taste in his mouth. She was standing right by that lamp. Yelling. The same sharp, razor like words that made him feel inadequate. She was... poison.

As the brunette finally woke up, mumbling something about getting together again sometime... he diverted the conversation. Whether she could tell or not was unbeknownst to him. He treated her carelessly. Hell, he treated them all carelessly and yet somehow he felt guilt-free. He was doing what he needed to, to survive.

As his lady friend closed the front door behind her, there was one thing he couldn't live with... buried between the sheets with a fine, attractive woman, and yet all he thought about was her. The last and only woman he'd ever be able to make love to. Actually make love. With everyone else it felt as if it were more of a substitute drug.

His actual drug, Kelly, would be getting married 24 hours from now. Everything will be different tomorrow... everything but their memories. His memories with her were even more bitter now than ever. Poison. But as poisonous as it were, he'd gladly drink from that cup again. Was it withdrawal he was going through? It seemed the only way he could describe it to himself. He craved her, like an itch you so badly want to scratch, even if everyone is telling you scratching creates scars. They are scars he was always afraid to get, knowing she always cut too deep.

They had caused each other so much pain. They had been through the lowest of lows together. But the true poison in their relationship wasn't the tumultuous journey, and it wasn't the painful fights... It was the passion.

Their passion was the biggest torture. Their passion often overpowered logic. Their passion managed to seduce them into thinking that they couldn't live, think or breathe without it. Their passion was... Wine. Sweet, red wine that tastes so good on your lips. But too much of a good thing will kill ya. Especially if you're forced to quit cold turkey. The taste of red wine stays with you, long after it's gone. That was Kelly. Even when he couldn't have her, he could still taste her. He was connected to her by some higher power. She was his soul mate. They never communicated well verbally, but their souls could, their passion could. And the best way to channel that passion was sex.

It was never just sex with her. Making love wasn't even strong enough of a term. He lost and found himself inside her. The touch of her soft silky skin made him feel alive. His soul was burning around her, she revitalized him. And he, her. The highest high was being one with her, and nothing ever could make him feel better than that.

As he remained in bed, remembering how she tasted like wine, he felt ashamed. Ashamed that he worked so hard to get his mind off her and now the morning after he still focused on how uncontrollably addicted he was to her. She was his addiction, she was his poison... but she was his wine. She was home. She made him feel happy to be alive. He was hungry for her... knowing only she could bring him pure satisfaction.

As the day went on he became filled with regret. Her words echoed in his mind. House. Dog. 2.2 kids. Could he choose again? The only thing scarier than letting her in, getting consumed and weaker by the great love of his life having the power over him, making him have to feel just how deeply he needed her, was her showing up last night, wearing another man's ring.

Caught between protecting himself from his feelings, and the idea that she would tomorrow, belong to someone else. He managed to get through the day only half-present. He couldn't eat, counting down the hours till his time was up.

That's when he knew... The hands that bruised him were the only ones that could heal him. Even when he hated her, even when he tried to convince himself he didn't love her... he always will.

They'd always be drawn to each other. They'd always crave each other's physical touch because it spoke to their souls. Only they could understand. Only they knew that their passion, that fire between them will never burn out. His only chance to be happy, his only chance to feel whole was Kelly Taylor.

Despite everything they had gone through, despite all the reasons he had to let her go. Despite his fears of failing her. Nothing would ever be as bad, as not being with her.

He would always be hers, and she would always be his. Did he have much of a choice anymore? Reluctant to or not, he always chose her.

Now he stood before her. Her soft blonde hair blowing in the wind. He remembered how it felt burying his face in her soft strands. How they felt against his cheek. Her red lips and the way they curled when she smiled. Her bright blue eyes filled with desire and fear. She was captivating. She always will captivate him. If he could let his desire take over right now, he'd make love to her for survival, that was where true happiness lied... between the sheets with her and her warmth. Her hand in his hand, his skin on her skin, with one touch, a thousand words were communicated. I want you, I need you... I'll always want you.

Losing her that night as she walked away was the most heartbreaking moment. He ached from head to toe. Her soft voice as sweet as wine. But her words, It's too late. were as tormenting as poison.

Their love was a contradiction. They were made for each other and yet, sometimes it was too hard to fix. It was so easy to love her, it was so hard to love her.

But if she let him... if she gave in to her soul's desire, her soul's comfort... he'd never let her go again.

Just when he thought it was over, there was one last glimmer of hope. She appeared again, outside his hotel room door just before dawn. One step away from their future.

She chose. She chose again. She chose him.

She was in his arms again. They were magnetic. In his bed, he felt alive again. Overpowered by passion, engulfed in hungry kisses. Finding euphoria in the sensation, a pleasure that no one else could ever measure up to. Raw sexual magnetism that made them feel they were finally where they belong. Breathing in her scent, her body at the end of his fingertips. He was home. She was home. Finally they were fulfilled, after being apart for so long. They couldn't survive without each other. Not anymore. They would never stop craving each other. And now, they forever can indulge in the pleasure of their desire. They sunk into each other, barely coming up for air. They never had to live without their fiery passion again.

Now they finally felt understood. Seduced by the idea of a future together, they were two soulmates beginning a new journey finally feeling like they got their happy ending. Their souls were finally one. He could breathe again...

And she tastes like wine...