Late nights curled against his chest, when we speak our voices in low whispers, hardly saying anything at all.
I chuckle, ever so softly.
"What?" He asks, stopping for just a second.
"Nothing," I say, because how could I ever find words to describe how happy he makes me feel.
YOU ARE READING
The Musings of a Teenage Something
Short StoryA compilation of all the "stuff" I write. Poems, one liners, paragraph stories, and the like. Enjoy!
