ricriss
He could make any lie sound like a beautiful, phenomenal truth, as long as he could get you under the spell of his eyes. As long as he managed to get you to look into them, to fall in love with that icy blue pigmented muscle, even if only for that moment you were looking into them, he could be telling you he is God himself and you would be accepting it as fact. It seems like a difficult feat in concept, but in practice, in his practice, it was as easy as deciding when to blink. I was constantly encompassed by his rich, velvet voice any time he spoke, and the traps I fell into while listening to his utter bullshit were deep and dark and vicious.
writing since 2013 · 2 entries · 2 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Bridget showed up.
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the words Bridget reaches for
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