sweet whispers | h.s

prologue

I always knew that I would never possess the capability of providing him with the love he truly deserved, but I loved him. Everything inch of him, I loved.

I loved his smile and the way it lit up an entire room. I loved the emerald of his eyes, and how they never failed to astonish me.

I loved the way he looked at me with admiration, and when his eyes held all the words he could never say.

I even loved the little things he would do, like when he'd write in a pink expo marker on his erase board just because he knew it was my favorite color. Or how his curls bobbed as his head nodded furiously due to his eagerness.

I loved when he was too worn out to carry on a one sided conversation with me after one of his breakdowns. I loved when he made attempts to braid my hair, and when he hummed in appreciation to my fingers stroking his own curly locks.

I loved him, more than I can begin to understand myself. More than I can ever say. I loved him, and I will always love him.