Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ☟︎ 𝙂𝙚𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
the air was sweaty, stiff with the cracking breaths that drifted through their shivering lips. his eyes travleled around her, the contracting chest of hers that almost touched the sky every time she felt the need to grasp a handful of air.
" wow," she spoke, gently, her words speeding into his ears, even if the transportation was meant to be soft, and gentle.
his back soon faced the wall, and his eyes were up close with hers, that steel blue shade practically piercing the jade hue of hers.
his finger traced down her collarbone, greeting each poking bone, and creating a new bump that would pop up with his chilling pads of fingers.
"some might say that's making love," she joked, allowing a breathy chuckle to escape her lips.
and be shot up, the steel eyes turning into a dark charcoal, and that still almost smile morphing into a disgraced frown.
"i only make love to my wife," he hissed, retracting his finger to the side of his huffing body, as he now used his falling strength to sit himself up, and leave the now confused and hurt girl.
it had only been two days. forty eight hours. that's not the correct amount of time to fall in love, in reality.
she gazed at him, or rather his back, that faced her and only left her to image in scowl that had churned into his expression, the one she already had stamped in her flowing mind.
though it hurt her. destroyed her. she had only known a stranger, a man she's never had previous contact with, for two whole days, barely. yet she had already felt her heart beat just a bit faster, and shake around a little bit more each time he spoke to her, each time his voice enchanted her ears.
it crushed her to say she had fallen in love with this man, this close to be stranger. but he wasn't a strange in her mind, that's what she had to keep telling herself.
she has seen him countless times on her screen, in posters, whether that be his hair combed with gel or styled into a bouffant looking doo. he'd always have a microphone in his hand, that would soon be only centimeters away from smacking another band member in the face.
so was he a stranger? in her thoughts, the thousands of written words in the yellow tinted pages of a worn out novel ran through her mind, most of those pages, those dipped ink pens all said love can be seen at first sight.
oh how she wanted to let herself allow to drown in the new found feelings. but that worry, judgment lingered in her heart, that constant judgmental side of her banged every second on the door that led to her brain.
with a sigh, a shrug, and a slump out of the bed, her hand reminisced of the movements that were still imprinted in the memorable sheets.
her feet soon slipped into the first pair of shoes she could find, and her legs carried her out the door, a small dress hugged her body, but for some reason, and a very odd one, she felt guilty, unfaithful.
trying her hardest to swipe and whoosh those for foreign feelings out of the way, she continued her walk, just sorrowfully strolling down the side walk, taking in each gulping breath of nature.
it seemed everyone was in love, the leaves were whispering sweet nothings to the sticks that slept below, the rocks were skidding down the side walk, eager to meet the blown strands of grass. and the many couples that strolled, hand in hand, lips close to lips, all somehow followed her, and stuck out to her.
her hand scrambled through her seemingly cluttered coat pocket, feeling a need for that achingly tempting cigarette, and she got nothing.
