summerrainy
Curves of lines, the soft colours that blend, sweaty skin and halted breaths. All of it reminds them of each other. It doesn't mean that they can't stop, per say, but they think that the way that they look at each other is a work of art; and every time they do so, it's filed away in their mind, another piece of a huge collection.
Warmth. Everlasting, crackling, the hearth of the fireplace made him wonder if he could keep this as his home, finally. If he could actually stay this time. Would he be able to? Would he allow himself to open up enough to let in another, to bring another part of family?
He didn't want to. He hasn't been able to for so long, but that made the thought even more tempting. And he could never really ignore the warm bundle of emotions settled in the pit of his stomach, produced by the rumbling flames.
Like a seductress's easy call, like the wide and adorable eyes of a kitten. You can't ignore it. It folds into the corners of your mind, turning into heat, the sudden want to have, take, gain and never give back. The call that tempts you and makes your throat go dry. To humans, the thing that is most tempting is the one that is most forbidden - like a siren's call, it beckons, and in our foolishness, we answer.
Sometimes, being quiet isn't enough.
Sometimes, there are days when you had you get through with just the quiet steps of your toes, the held breath, the anxiety bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You need food. You need to hide yourself and get away before anyone else can see you. You have to keep yourself away from view, keep yourself away from the questions and comments and suggestions. Keep away from the hurt and the pain and the beating. Just keep away from it all, be like the air in the dark night, be like the most invisible of ghosts - like a whisper, just not there.
Please come back. It's all that we need, all that I need. When you left, all I could see was your retreating back, broad and large, the sun hitting the rays of the sides of your shoulders. I couldn't see anything. I was blinded for a minute. I want you to return; I want you to come back to me. Tell me that I'll see you again. Or else all else is not worth waiting for.
Return to me. Tell me that you love me, because I love you.
It's the day where everyone deserves something, because even the most unworthy of people deserve something. To deserve something means that you worked for it. That you'll risk your life for it. That you're willing to go far and beyond for just one small, tiny thing. And that's what makes all the difference. That's what makes it so worth it.
That's what makes you deserve it. No matter what it is, and how far you have to go. You deserve it.
In the middle, like a blossoming rose, just in his touch's reach. His reach's touch. The beautiful flowers were none like he had ever seen before. But it was there, placed perfectly in the middle, not a flower petal out of place; their velvety texture was apparent even from where he stood. The crystal of the glass glinted in the morning sun; dew lay on the leaves. Only one word for it: beautiful.
writing since 2011 · 8 entries · 8 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Summer showed up.
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8days written
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the words Summer reaches for
deservequietignoreyourselfanotherhurtmatterleastreasonmiddlebeautifulsunfarworthreturnlove