16. Like The Other Girls

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I don't know how Skylar managed to sleep, laying peacefully on my chest with the sound of my heart racing, like I was pushed off a cliff.

Her soft and cute little snore was the only sound I could hear. She fell asleep a while ago, but I couldn't.

All I could do was stare at her as she sleeps. I know I probably look like a creep, but I just need to keep looking at her.

It's suppose to be over.

I told myself if I fucked this sexual tension off me, I will stop seeing her. My heart will stop beating anytime I'm in a room with her or anytime we stare into each other's eyes.

We are adults and we fucked. She was into it, she wanted it and so did I. Then we did and fuck, it was incredible.

But how come my heart is still racing?

Why can't I stop memorizing all her features?

Her little pink delicate lips that's a little parted right now, her brown eyes that's hidden right now, but captures me everytime. Her brownish freckles tinting her nose and her under eyes, that I wanna trace with my fingers. Her tattoos, her voice, her smile, her laugh...her personality.

Her everything.

All her qualities, all that she does that keeps surprising me. From being a painter to being a photographer, which amused me so much, when she graced me with the privilege of knowing those parts of herself that night.

I was worried and honestly hurt when she told me she hasn't been able to do either of them for years. There's certainly a story and a reason behind it.

Everything she does brings a sense of warmth to my heart, even if I haven't seen her actually do any of them. The only thing I wish she didn't do was smoke. I hated it.

I hate the fact that she harms herself with something so harmful and the other used cigars I saw outside the other night told me she does it often.

But that's what scares me. That is what scares me.

The way I notice the little things she does, like her little cute pouts or her spacing out or how she cusses without a care in the world, that is what scares me.

I'm not suppose to think about her or see her when I close my eyes. She's not suppose to cloud my head so effortlessly, living and wandering rent free in my mind like she owns me.

My heart is not suppose to beat so rapidly when I'm with her or when I'm around her.

It hasn't happened before and it's not suppose to happen. It doesn't work like that.

I'm not suppose to be restless when I haven't seen her for a full day. I'm not meant to crave the sound of her laughter or the sight of her smile.

But I do.

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