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whisperedtouches
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I think, maybe, it might be that we'll always just be stumbling into one another, the world constantly turned on its side like someone's trying to stop the bleeding, as we reach blindly out for something to hold onto. I think, maybe, it might be a silence stretching out,(more)
I've been struggling lately with my faulty memories. I don't know where to look in this empty house, which floorboards to brush the dust off of and tear up and find all the words I wanted to say, and I don't know where to find the key to break(more)
Finally, it's her hands shoving his chest, her hair whipping around her as his stomach lurches like he's about to throw up ("Stop just lying there and - and taking it all! Take a fucking risk for once in your life!") that pulls the dice from his hand, an(more)
and it all falls apart before you even really get the chance to take hold of it.
It's going on 1 in the morning and she's pacing from wall to wall, biting her nails when, with the biggest, smuggest, most satisfied smile plastered all over his stupid face, he waltzes into the room, spins around, and falls backward onto her bed, arms spread wide like he's(more)
The little girl stretched out on the couch with her feet in her mother's lap; smiling like the sun, the mother put her hand on the child's foot and gave a dramatic jump.

"Your toes are so cold, I should put them in my drink and cool it(more)
He's never been able to do it right - something about the way he flicks his wrist, something he does or maybe doesn't do with his fingers that screws the whole thing up. Tara teases him mercilessly for it, jabs her elbow into his side with a lopsided smile(more)
He's bent over, hands on his knees, gasping as he tries to get some air back into his searing lungs, but he doesn't give himself the chance - "Faster," he rasps, his voice sharp and white before his eyes, "you're gonna have to be faster."
(more)
"It's mine," he says, in a voice that rings with new clarity, and steps forward from the shadows of the throne room with a fire blazing in his eyes. Gone is the child who fought his sister over the best toys with the meaty hands of a toddler -(more)
There were stars in your eyes then, shining through the darkness; you were the lighthouse standing tall and proud and strong at the edge of the world. The sun lay down and kissed your feet every night and she would murmur your name as though the universes you held(more)
He's pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to her jaw when her fingers slip on the final buttons of his shirt; she threads her fingers through his hair and tugs, hard, at the same time pressing his head into her as he moves down, down; he nips at the lie caught(more)
As she lies awake, her mind is filled by nothing else but the broad curve of his back, the soft hairs that stick up at the nape of his neck, the grateful smirk he throws at her over his shoulder, his eyes black and bright. He holds out his(more)