Yes, I'm back from hiatus. And now for something completely different. A drabble! On a movie no one I know has even seen! YAY, me!

I couldn't get this out of my head. I'm hoping it will make the Breaking Up muse go away until I can finish the SW story I'm trying to write. (Yeah, sure youbetcha!) Also, no, the Central Park scene didn't happen in the movie. It's only in my head, though it will probably be a flashback in my eventual fic project Getting (It) Together.

He still thought about her. Dreamed about her. Hell, he still smelled her. He could close his eyes and feel her skin, taste her tongue, breathe her hair. He stopped sometimes at that little spot in Central Park where they'd rolled around in the grass. He could still feel the sun and the weight of her body on top of him. He could feel her fingers brush the side of his face. He could hear her laughing.

She was the perfect high—that one golden moment he chased but could never find again. She lit him up. And burned him.