𝗕𝗨𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

𝟮𝟯. 𝗗𝗶𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀

Rest in peace Vivienne, Beau would have loved you 🕊

For the first time in almost eight years I slept without waking up sweating, breathless, and traumatised from another one of the same nightmares.

Where my dads hands feel like the sting of a wasp against my skin, and nothing but black and blue bruises decorate my face. 

By the smidgen of light peeking through the curtain, I can tell it's only the crack of dawn.

She's still fast asleep, arms around my abdomen and hair in my face.

Cherries, it smells of fucking cherries.

She lays against me so fucking perfectly. Resting eyelids, full, yet hollow cheeks and plump lips.

God, I've never felt luckier to be the one holding her like this. In the most vulnerable state, she's chosen my arms to be the ones to lay in.

It's a strange feeling the one I feel when she's around. Whenever she's in the room she's the only thing that will have my full attention, twenty four fucking seven.

I'd be a stupid man to ever look the other way, or not laugh at her awful fucking jokes that make her smile more than anyone else. When she's away from me I want to know where she is, and when she's in my close contact like now, I want to stop time so I can be the only one to hold her for the rest of eternity.

Fuck, I sound crazy.

When she starts to stir I pull my focus off of her button nose and onto the silky curtains behind her. I may not have been looking, but her beady eyes have fluttered open; so now I'm back to staring.

She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out, instead her head gets buried lower into my stomach as she closes her eyes once more.

I think I just got butterflies or some shit like that.

I lay with her for a while longer, at least until her backs facing me and I can no longer smell the sweet scent of heaven.

As I make my way into her bathroom I pass her pet rats cage, the remembrance of last night sending a shiver down my spine. If someone would have told me I'd have stroked a rat even twenty four hours ago, I would have told them to fuck off.

And that's what I mean when I say she's making me go crazy, in every way possible.

Can't lie though, she was soft as fuck. But I'd never admit that, at least not yet anyway.

I haven't even finished brushing my teeth with a spare toothbrush Beau found last night, when she comes waltzing in.

Messy hair, long legs, puffy face.

I'd fuck her anywhere, any time.

I can sense that she's still half asleep when the toothpaste drops off of her brush, and she stomps her foot like a fucking two year old.