♯ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 | @dspirited.
she always opened a window when it was cold. her frame silhouetted against the sheer white curtains, the pale glow of the moonlight dancing on her skin, smoothing over the ridges of the goosebumps that were spattered across her arms. knuckles rap against the bedroom door she’d mindlessly swung open so many times already in the past week since she’d invited the stranger to come live with her. but the moment she cracks it open, she’s misplaced all feelings of moral reflection. ‘ is that ... what is she doing in your bed ? ’











