𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚎

The Night is cold but your skin felt warm, wind too frigid to keep you hot but warmth too suffocating and syrup like to be mild. Your head felt light but your limbs feel heavy, nauseous yet dangerously comfortable. You lift back heavy eye lids to see the hottest mess you ever saw. Black locks a tasseled mess, face flushed, his back leaned awkwardly on the balcony’s railing, his arms trying to keep him up yet it was as if his legs weighed him down, and god worst of all was his eyes, heavy eyes that looked up at you helplessly drunk in love

Or well in this scenario high would be more accurate, he had come over like usual today, smoking a blunt helped you with stress he usually stuck with his cigarets, but this time around he asked for yours his hand rubbing the back of his neck in the way it always did, he said he already ran through his pack today. Perhaps it was the fog already in your system, the ambrosia that seemed to now be the blood in your veins but your body moved I actions that were seamless yet not practiced. Maybe you should be honest, maybe it was the fact you had been dreaming about it, maybe its the fact that its so damn hard not to stare at his lips when he chuckles in that dorkish way of his. But you’re not completely ready to face that yet.

Cold air pushed at your back as if encouraging your actions, before you knew it one foot stumbled forward ahead of the other and your hands rested on his cheeks, face warm on your palms, before his wide eyes could question you your lips smashed into his dropped jaw and breaaaaathed out. Maybe the weed hit him harder than most nights, maybe his tongue grew its own mind, maybe he had feelings for you too, but you still weren’t ready to face that.

When you pulled back, weed delivered, because that was definitely the only reason you had to kiss him his eyes looked down at you with a heavy weight, one that lacked the usual boyish charm and were instead filled with something the angels would rather not name. But than it came right back when his face started to drown in pink as he fell forward and crashed into you in a way that could in no way be driven purely by a want for second hand smoke.