raelyni
Over and over. She always came back to him. Over and over. His hand hard against her soft pink cheek. Over and over. She said that he loved her. Over and over. He never stopped. Over and over. "He loves me," she said. Over and over.
So beautifully the fabric of her dress flowed as she stood on the breezy hillside. She felt the soft tendrils of grass sweep against her ankles, her freshly smoothed skin, and sighed. They were like the fabric from the earth.