365 {cake/discontinued}

41 {your polaroids}

4 updates comin your way at some point lmao (1/4 as a reminder for myself bc foRGETFUL)
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Considering my Taylor Swift obsession, and yours, it's no wonder that we bought a Polaroid camera after 1989 released.

You, being as poetic as you are, like to take nice artsy shots. Or, random photos of me.

"The light is literally in my face, Cal," I whine, covering my face with my hands.

"Because you're the embodiment of sunshine. No wonder light is attracted to you," You say, tickling me slightly.

I giggle, palms facing upward as I attempt to cover my face. The photo comes out, and one can see my gleeful face, mouth curled into a bright smile.

"You look so cute, fuck."

I scrunch up my nose. "Really?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

You pull me into your arms. "Stop that. You look even cuter, Jesus."

I kiss the snaps of your flannel, one by one, gazing up at you the entire time. "I love you," I say, before leaning up and kissing your red lips.

"Mmh, love you too much, I swear."

I boop your nose delicately. "You're the bestest!"

"Lean in for a big kiss..." Calum murmurs, doing just that. Our lips meet shortly.

"PUT HIS FAVORITE PERFUME ON," We pull away from each other, screaming the lyrics to Video Games out.

"Lana is so great. But you're better...than I ever even knew," You say, grinning.

"They say that the world was built for two," I say, head resting against your chest.

You grab my hand, playing with my fingers. "It was built for me and you."

I tilt my head up. "That's not the next line!"

"I know," You smile down at me, "But isn't it true?"

"You're rhyming again," I groan.

"Heh, sorry."

"It's kind of cute. You're cute."

You jokingly glare at me. "Ah, so the battle continues. I could play this game all day, Hemmings."

"Good, I wanna stay by your side all day."

You snatch your camera and take a picture of me, while I was unprepared.

"Look at how beautiful you are," You say breathlessly, looking at the photo of me, all wide blue eyes and wide, fond smile.

"How did I get so lucky, Lukey?"

I kiss your knuckles. "We both lucked out."

You smirk. "And later you'll get fucked out."

"Keep up those jokes and you'll get kicked out."

But I could never bring myself to kick you out, no matter how many bad jokes you make.

You like to keep your Polaroids, hanging them about our bedroom, or placing them inside scrapbooks.

And even though the photos are lovely, and you look so pretty,

I wish I could reach inside them and pull you out.
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this was trash oh well