What he doesn't know is that night I may have gotten an hours sleep in his arms. It was a long night for the both of us but I feel as though we both liked it. I laid there in his arms finding myself wanting to pull myself closer and closer to him. The way his hand ran over my back, his fingertips sometimes resting on the small of my back, right where my spinal cord was, took me into a trance. Or the way his other hand went through my hair and circled around my small and cold ears mesmerized me. The thing about it was the memories it brought back, I remembered an embrace like that before and I missed it. I think that's why I pulled myself closer, because he felt like home.
At one point I had two minds. I wanted him to kiss me, to see if this connection stopped there but part of me didn't want him to, told me not to ruin another good friendship. His lips found the crevice of my neck and instead of pulling back I wanted his lips to stay there, which had never happened to me before.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Mending A Broken Heart
Short StoryI don't think it's about finding myself as much as it is about remaking myself. I had been this girl for awhile, and then I started changing. Heading in a new direction blindfolded. I think it's time to take the blindfold off and create myself with...
