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Summary
Your hands are holding onto her cheeks, something she used to do to you, while you're staring into the abyss that are her eyes, and you lean in. Such eagerness is reciprocated, and this is shown by the hand that slaps itself onto the back of your head so you don't leave her lips and her soul wanting.
Your brain buzzed yet again, but not with the harmful throbbing you've come to embrace. No. It was something holy. A revelation. She was the silhouette in your sexual thoughts. Why it took you this long to piece these things together, you have no idea.
You could have left. Or tried, at least. Could have avoided the mountains altogether and snuck back. But you didn't. These events lined up so you'd worm your way into her web. You just kept going. God turned his head and ignored your fate when you refused to heed his warnings.
You are Icarus, man with wings of wax, and you flew too close to the sun.