His focused expression relaxes and he stills a moment, breaking eye contact to look at my mouth. The pad of his thumb skates along my lower lip ever so slightly. “If you weren’t so unbearable, I’d make you look freshly kissed,” he whispers.
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Don’t die.
Don’t leave me.
You occupy my mind.
Those stupid crosswords. You’re those for me. You’re the cage for my thoughts.
sofia marcoshar citeretfor 8 måneder siden
She’s so cold beneath my fingers. Her lips are so still beneath mine. I should’ve kissed her in the trees. Should’ve made her see how much she mattered.
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