If you follow my dearheart on here, you might know his silly “Rainbow speckled descent to madness” post. I’m going to make my own. Why? Because no one will care other than him, and that’s all I care about.
Now where on earth to begin? Should I ramble about his wonderful eyes? His hair? Or that laugh that makes me feel like I’m in middle school again, clasping my stomach as moths take flight trying to find the light in him?
I remember the first time we had cuddled. It was the first time I had ever cuddled anyone, actually, and I was sure my weak ass bladder was going to combust and I would piss all over him. I didn’t, thankfully, but I did have to pry myself out of his arms because I shit you not he has a tight grip even while he’s dead asleep.
Sometimes when he holds my hand, I still get sweaty and anxious. Just yesterday we went out on our first date and the amount of times I gazed at him and felt like I was on cloud nine and got quiet when he caught me staring. Ugh, goodness. I wonder if I look like a fool sometimes. …I dearly hope not.
I do not lie when I say he is ethereal. Dare to gaze in his eyes and I swear he is the masculine form of Medusa by the way he stops me in my tracks and has me frozen. He is the embodiment of beauty, I swear. Beautiful bright blue eyes to compete with my honey brown, the softest blonde curls you could ever run your hands in— AND I KNOW THEY’RE CURLS, DARLING. Those things could replace the Roblox spring when the slightest bit of humidity hits them — and my. My, oh my, that face. I could hold his face in my hands forever.
The way he squints when he smiles of laughs has me feeling dizzy, and those lips of his makes me possessed with some clingy love demon or something because I just want to hold him forever and press kisses everywhere he wishes. Your cheek? Right away, sire. Oh, you want one on your lips again? Of course, your majesty. Anything for you.
His voice too. My. Hehe. Call him a siren by the way he’s got me doing whatever he wants. Now, don’t take this sexually. I would NEVER. Boutta slap you all if you dare took that sexually. >:(
Though he does have a lovely voice. Sometimes I wish he sang in front of me so I could hear the vibrato he always talks about. I’d give my soul to the devil just to hear him sing.
Perhaps I am a fool whose head is too stuck in love. After all, I want to bow at his feet and do whatever he wishes for me to do right at his command. But do you really blame me for wanting to treat a godly boy like a king?
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