#addlsons

Four turned to seven, and somewhere in the mix, he couldn’t exactly remember where he’d called the brown haired girl from his past. He wished he could remember why. He never sought out comfort, it wasn’t in his nature, but he’d become unfamiliar with the unleashed side of himself, so maybe this was his new drunken norm. He was always so happy to see Addison, always smiling at the sight, but when he opened the door to the knock he was a disheveled mess, not fit for anyone to see. Tears stained his cheeks, no shirt, only a pair of jeans to shield him from the cold night air that filed in. She shuffled in without many words exchanged. “I’m so--” he spoke with the bottle in hand, tears again welling up in his eyes, the thought of someone else seeing him like this too much to bear, never mind the girl he’d spent so much of his time thinking about. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be here, can’t you see that now? Can’t you see why I’m no good for you? Look at me! Look at me! I’m a fucking mess, Addison,” he so quickly became unhinged, the tears again starting to roam down his face quicker than he could have imagined. It was what he wanted to tell her about him, but could never find the words. That his whole life could be going wonderful and in a moment’s notice everything could go dark for him. She’d been his light, something to look forward to on the harder days, but there was no light for him when he was like this. She deserved to be someone’s light. Always. Not just when it served them, and that seemed to be all Patrick could provide for anyone. “I love you, I love you, but you gotta let me go. I’m no good-- I’m no good for anyone, I can’t bring you down with me.”

Types Of Kisses Prompts 3. Hesitant Kiss – Her back was comfortable against the wall in the alleyway, her gaze following his. The anger was clear, written on his features like a vibrant sonnet that told her to keep her mouth shut. Let him get it out, let him rage. Let him hate her - they always did in the end. She swallowed hard as he paced around, alcohol dipped irritation evident, the wearing down in the concrete that was left between them becoming clear. “Stop it — “ she started, heart racing, blood forming in her face as worry began to grow. Years ago it was an appeal to Danica that Marco was unpredictable but in the alley surrounded by darkness she only had her wits if things went south. “Marco — “ A hand reached out, pulling him closer, and in his anger a fist hit the wall behind her. She didn’t yelp, gasp or even breathe for a moment, just simply holding him in one spot close enough so their noses touched, the skin on the edge of her now chapped lips. She paused, her breath slipping out of her mouth as her hand still rested on his. “Relax.” It wasn’t intentional, too much forethought, and Dani leaned closer, her lips pressing to Marco’s only momentarily before being pulled back in uncertainty. She wasn’t sure what she had done  but he was frozen around her. her lips lingering over his as if she were uncertain of what to do next before pressing gently again.4.In The Moment Kiss –“No —- you know what” Her voice rose, a bubble of tears forming in the corner of her eyeball as she blinked them back. Her anger was showing, his temper was flaring and they stood face to face in his apartment, she was certain that something would break and she would be the first one to grab a lamp and toss. “Fuck you, Marco Brandwell. You sleep with the whole fucking town so don’t you try and get upset with me for leaving it’s not… “ she stopped, took a breath and shook her head as she stepped closer to him. With hands waving  maniacally while she spoke, Danica huffed loud, wanting to push him away as she moved. “You are so insufferable you know that? I just —- “ The anger built up in her fists, but instead of reaching up to lay a punch that would  never have happened, she grabbed his face in her hands and pulled him even closer to press his lips to hers hard, cursing while she did so.1. Post Break Up Kiss  –It had been years. Unexpected and turned to face this new challenge, Danica stared at Marco Branwell as if he were a  ghost. “Marco — “ the words were quiet, a hand reaching down to wrap itself protectively along the stomach that carried something much more precious between them, something she had taken away without much thought. “I – “ she was about to reach out but he’d stepped forward first, his lips pressed to hers, every inch, every moment of power between them gone as memories flooded her vision and thoughts telling her it was okay, he was sorry for whatever he did and her leaving was his fault. It wasn’t — she  knew that but for a split second she believed it.