Written August Series — Days 25, 26, 27



A scratch to your back, another push into me. I threw my head back, screaming pleasure, forgetting the world.
You’re good at making me forget.
/
A whip cream on your nose, flour to my hair. I slapped your arm, you give me a smile.
You’re good at making me laugh.
/
A touch of your lips on mine, a hand wrapped around my waist. I sigh, you sigh.
You’re good at kissing. Damn.
/
A pat to my head, a groan from my lips. I can’t seem to get it, but you still went on with your explaining.
I’m not that sorry anymore for being less intelligent than you.
/
My hands on my eyes, your arms wrapped around me. I jumped on my chair — you held me back, kissing my hair.
You’re good at protecting.
/
Popcorn in between, though my head couls still lay comfortably on your shoulders. I won’t tell anyone you cried during The Notebook, but don’t tell anyone I liked it either.
You’re good at keeping secrets, aren’t you?
/
The sound of the ocean on my right, the commotion of human activity on my left. You, kneeling upon me, giving me that goddamn puppy eyes, and a ring in a velvet box.
Of course I said yes. You’re good at making me fall in love.
/
I once thought I wouldn’t find anyone, that I would stay here, alone, doing my thing.
You proved me wrong. I am here. But I’m not alone. And we’re doing this together.
You’re in my mind; heart; house; speed dial; life, always, never leaving.
I won’t trade it for the world.
I won’t trade you for anything else.
. (d. 17/8/27. 3pm.) | my forever addiction |
