【Hansy】
She remembered kissing her exes (or one-offs)—sweet, gentle whispers on her lips or tongue tangled up in feverish heat, sandwood and cologne and sweat and cigar and the scent of something distinctly male. She'd tasted it all, and in the end, they weren't all that different. The flavors entwined, blending into bitterness after awhile, the aftertaste feeling suspiciously similar to disappointment.
She'd expected it to stay that way with Potter.
She was wrong.