Welcome,

I honestly don't know what happened beyond 3 × 07 of The 100, though I know a few things like Aden dying, Ontari dying, Titus dying, blah blah.

Don’t attempt to lure me with those beautiful eyes You’re staring, it’s chilling But please; Don’t you dare stop You twirl your pen as if to send a message My pulse is racing My eyes travel to the valley between your low-cut top You’re sitting calmly from across the aisle Cheeks reddening, you’re breathtaking Your sight serenades me like a vibrating orchestra You smile as you look away, it’s a signal, it’s a sign Let’s wait ‘til three-thirty and when class is done, follow me And I’ll taste the flesh beneath your Victoria Secret bra

I want hugs and hair-pulling whispers And vanilla-tasting lips pressed on mine I want you, I want touches I want words speaking rhyme I want to end this year, with passion And wet fingers and ears tingling, red I want rain, I want pancakes, I want coffee I want to cuddle with you in bed