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hú, i really need to stop making these posts perhaps.
my thoughts are flooded with him. his laugh echos in my ears, his voice, like a lullaby, it sings me to sleep. his body warms more than mine when he holds me. he radiates excellence, and i am completely, totally, endlessly, and incredibly in love with him.
I get lost in him, and it’s the kind of lost that's exactly like being found.
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⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 12:23am
you’re falling for him. your eyes get a little bit brighter, your smile gets bigger and you laugh a little more with him. and because you look at him the way you used to look at him, but it’s more, more passionate, more certain. you might not realize it, but you do. I see you falling for him more everyday.
i think it was september 5th, 6th maybe? i think that was the day i realised that this boy, this boy was the one giving me fucking heart palpitations, that his eyes twinkle like the stars in the sky and I can see the reflection of galaxies inside.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ september 8th. 14:36pm
there is a universe in his eyes, and with each twinkle, another secret of his being is told.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ september 9th. 19:25pm
his eyes are a window into everything that i dreamed they would be. his touch against my skin, is like my favorite love song. i fell in love with a stranger who stole my heart. i didn’t know it was coming, which is my favorite part.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆september 10th. 00:58am
he knows so very little about my bad habits, how I can drink 6 cups of black coffee in a day, the hours I’ll go hungry, he won’t know the things I’ve done and where I’ve been, how I’ll rub a bottle of hand sanitizer into my skin, into my cuts and sore spots, and fantasize about breathing in the bathtub. he doesn’t know that I shove the two front fingers on my right hand down my throat to make myself feel better, how I’ll write the same sentence a thousand times in a row in a row in a row in a row. he doesn’t realize how many hours I leave my house, to wander without destination, how I fall for older boys and sad girls. and he doesn’t know that he couldn’t stop me if one day I give up to bottle of pills or a pretty knife.
there’s no fucking way he’ll ever love me.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆september 10th. 01:18am
he’s just a beautiful boy with a beautiful soul. and i love him.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ à suivre ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
"i'm sorry." he states, quietly, monotonously, while the other picks glass and gravel out of his shoulder, taking cotton balls and rags to aqueous crimson. "he would have been easier to deal with." 'he'--the man with short black hair and warm eyes and a far more stable state of mind. he's sorry, that the other has to /settle/, because really, he knows kyungmin could--should--do better.
Extremities work quickly, a hasty huff pushing past pairs that were reddened from worry; whitened enamels having previously been pressed down onto cushion of dainty pink lip, though at that point the boy was still, not moving an inch as he merely studied his boyfriend, thoughts racing around in his head and thinking of what could have possibly happened to him. –- but, by the time more of the same scarlet liquid runs down a sun-kissed arm, he then moved instinctively, grabbing rags, cotton balls and alcohol. pressing white linen soaked in cleanser to dirtied, almost concentrated brown and black wounds scattered around shoulder he sighs, alcohol stinging nose before shushing lover as he moves to press lips against others, quick, simple and chaste. then, he speaks, voice soft as usual, dipping linen in alcohol once more and dabbing it against reddened wound. “sh, babe, just relax..it’s okay now..” another sigh, more for himself, and then he picks up a cotton ball, dabbing moistened wound dry before moving to minor injuries; gaze catching the clock across the room. 03:27. “i told you not to go out like that, haru.” shaking head, nova characteristically blows bleached bangs out of hazel hues’ view, grabbing bandage and spraying it with some unneeded, yet cautious anti-bacterial serum, lifting lover’s arm up so he can wrap it around his shoulder, securing it with a safety pin before pressing lips against fabric. hand reaches down to hold others, thumb tracing over back of it before he sighs again, opposite arm reaching up to push hair out of haruka’s view; speaking just as soft as before, much like velvet. “..why don’t you listen to me, hm? what if you didn’t make your way home alright? i don’t get it, baby...”
cracks an egg over his crown. don't compare me to a fucking egg ever again.
groovy!
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you ugly.
#asian #japanese #bully #boy #aesthetic #liar #smol
come on, natch!
Really, queen?
“Now I know why people think you’re neurotic.”
He wasn't sure what to say; all he could do at the moment was stare at the younger - no, glare. Was he upset? Yes. Shocked? Definitely not. There wasn't much that he couldn't expect from Haruka. The younger most certainly had a temper and Yoongi had often seen it in action. At his better judgement, he decided not to blow up on the other, but instead tried to handle the situation a bit more civily. ❝ So that's what you have to say to me? After everything I've done for you? After all the times I tried to help you?❞
