Writer's Block.

Seen.

"It's difficult," she admits.

"Watching the person you're falling for throw themselves at other people when all you want is to catch them."

She clenches her fists so hard her knuckles turned white, "You want to be the one to run your hands through his hair and trace barely there kisses along his collarbone and hold his just to see if his body moulds to you as perfectly as that final puzzle piece."

"And even as you watch his trail lines of fire with his fingertips over someone else you still feel an overwhelming urge to protect him and it takes all of your strength to not run over and take his face between your hands and tell him that you would be his at a simple word."

"But self-preservation is human instinct and," she pauses to hit his fist against the mirror and run a bloody hand over her face, "even though it kills you to watch, you never say a word. You turn away from his smiles because every one of them only makes you fall harder and you brush off his accidental touches because they'll only leave you wanting him more and you can't afford that because more will break you into irreparable pieces."

"You just watch as he unknowingly burns pieces of your heart every time he lets another take a piece of his."

-Ploys