It goes like this: the English sun sets, and Sheridan crashes into the hotel room, dragging me in behind her. We are already kissing. Her hands and lips find my jaw, my chest, my legs. She envelops me - she is everywhere - she looks at me like she doesn't recognize me, and she smiles. She tries things we never used to do. She binds and gags me. She likes knives now. She makes me scream. She takes me over and over and over, she drains every last drop of fluid in my body. I die every night for her, but her hunger is never satisfied. And so the cycle continues.