ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɴᴇ? | Hawk/ Eli Moskowitz | SLOW UPDATES

⋆⋅ 33 ⋅⋆

⁎  ᴡ ɪ ʟ ʟ ᴏ ᴡ  ⁎
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I CANNOT THINK STRAIGHT. I haven't been able to all day. I've been tuning in and out, and losing control of my own thoughts. I've been overwhelmed, stressed, nervous, sad. Everything.

And yet no one will ever truly understand if i tell them. Trust me i know.

I let this feeling seething inside of me simmer around me, engulf and become apart of me. I don't know what this feeling is, but it leaves only to return later on.

This feeling waits patiently in the back on my chest, lingering, reminding me how truly bad everything is currently. I don't want to eat. I don't want to sleep. And yet i can barley keep my eyes open.

It leaves then comes back, like a twisted magic trick or unexpected slap to the face.

I'm at the beach drawing hearts into the sand. The soft matter falls beneath my fingers, as the sounds of waves far away crash against the shore.

A party happens beside me, the loud sound of music and yelling crowds fill my ears. I see people from school at the party and debate weather to hide my face. It's always awkward seeing people out in public.

Just blend in. I remind myself.

I look down, drawing more hearts in the sand when i hear my name being called. Kill me now.

I look up and see Eli stumbling towards me, a beer bottle swinging lowly in his hand.

Oh hell no.

"Willow?."

I stand up annoyed, gathering my things and ignoring every word that spills from his mouth. "Leave me alone Eli."

Before i can escape i feel a tug at my arm pulling me towards him lightly. The feeling so tender against my bare skin, like a hot hand being pressed against a cold surface. In the mists of turning to face him, his index finger catches the hook of my chin.

I'm both startled and unimpressed, considering the fact that he's batshit drunk.

My face is so close to him, i get a good look at his lips, eyes, even nose. Every minor detail on his face is so new looking from this angle. He looks the same yet so different.

He tips my face upwards with his finger and inspects my face with his eyes. And my stomach can't help but jump at his skin against mine.

His breath fans against my nose, and It takes everything in me to gently pull his hands away. I don't want to, i don't know why i don't want to, but i know i need too.

"Your lips." He says gently.

My hands begin to sweat, what possibly is so important that it needs to be a topic of discussion. Especially my appearance.

"They're red."

I swallow the lump in my throat, my chest tightening stronger by the minute. I don't know what to say so i just nod.

"I like it." He says flatly ooking down at me.

I didn't expect him to say that. But i am happy he did. I think?.