ă ¤đŹđĄđ đđđđđĄđđŹ đĄđđŤđŹđđĽđ đŹđđđŤđ˘đ§đ đđ đĄđ˘đŚ đŤđđ đŽđĽđđŤđĽđ˛, like a half solved puzzle with missing pieces. it's been months since finding out who he [ really ] is, yet even now she does not know him. not entirely. she watches him escape : slipping off into his own little world where no one can reach him. âthat's what it was, wasn't it?
â where do you go? â a hand comes to sit at his shoulder, hoping to anchor him there just for a moment. â it's so often i look over at you and you don't seem here. â that hand sat on his shoulder lifts, coming to settle at his cheek in a gesture to let him know he's safe. eyes caught venturing over his features before a brief pat is given. â talk to me . . . more often than not, i see you đđđđđđđ đđ đđ˘ đđđđ đ˘đđđ đđđđđđđđ. â what are you running to?
ďź starter for @goodberg












