𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 ; 𝟸𝟺 ; 𝙼𝚢 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢, 𝚁𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙽𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚈𝚘𝚞

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 ; 𝟸𝟺 ; 𝙼𝚢 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢, 𝚁𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙽𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚈𝚘𝚞

𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸

Dear, Lawrence

It's so dark outside, so rainy and so cold. I couldn't do anything, anything except worry at least. Worry about you, about my future, about whether or not I would have to live the rest of my life watching you from afar. I've always watched over you but never being able to talk to you? I couldn't do it. I see anything interesting and your face comes to mind, thinking of your giggle and your blush that will appear across the apples of your cheeks when I tell you about it.

I hate feeling like this, like your something so far away now that I can't even touch you. I can't talk to you, I can't touch you, I can't kiss you, I can do none of the things I took for granted. I had wanted to do them for so long, press my lips to your skin and hear you say my name in that loving tone, have you under me and not have to hold back on my tendencies. to just let you see how much I wanted you. But somehow, after all of those years of wanting, after I finally got it I didn't appreciate it enough.

I feel like I both remember so vividly, and don't remember at all, how it felt to kiss you, our lips to be pressed in harmony. I hate it. I want to remember every detail of you, every mark on your body, how smooth your skin was against my calloused fingers, but I don't.

I wish I could just have you for one more minute, kissing you deeply and mumbling how much I loved you into your ear. Remembering each piece of your body that fit into mine so well, just like my mothers jigsaw puzzles.

But instead I'm just remembering how It took twenty years for me to sway you, to develop my love and adoration completely, to finally make a move. Yet it only took twenty seconds for all that work to disappear under my hands. I want you back Lawrence. I regret every word I've said and every woman I've touched and every time I denied you and hurt you, to the point that I know I can't take back my actions, I can just fix them.

I need to fix us, Lawrence.

Cause I'm realizing that without you, without having you at least be in my life everyday, romantic intentions or not I'd die.

I need you Lawrence.

I want you.

I'll have you, I promise.

Love, Tate.

𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸

I couldn't stand it anymore, the way the silence made me feel. I was in pain and it wouldn't stop. I couldn't forget about her for a second, or the way she looked at me, or how she felt against my lips, or how she talked.

I went through the pouring rain, my shoes covered in mud and my hair soaked, but I didn't care. She never cared, she always said when my hair was wet and stuck to my forehead that I looked beautiful. I never once wore an umbrella outside again. I wanted to be her definition of beautiful, of course her type was built off of me though. She's loved me since she was little.

I walked into the door, nobody was home accept Avery, Lawrence, and Presley. I took off my shoes and my over coat and I began my trip up the stairs. I wanted to see her, I couldn't stop thinking about her and what I did.

"What do you think you're doing, Tate!?" Avery says, grabbing onto my wrist to try to pull me but I snatch my arm back to my side. He caught me but I have no shame.

"I can't do this anymore! I love her Avery! You don't understand how bad I hurt her and I- I can leave her but I can't not talk to her or touch her... or see her! I'm living in a constant state of pain when I know how bad she hates me, Avery. She loved me just a few hours ago and I wanna go back to that... I miss her... please.." I beg.