#marwrites

November nights. A single lit lantern in the greenhouse, an empty glass at your elbow, plants around your feet. Your jacket hangs around you like a vice. There’s dirt in the air, dirt on your hands, dirt on his cuff but he doesn’t notice.There’s a single crease between his brow. It deepens when you grin.

But I learned.

When I first met you, you snarled at me from the shadows. You were dark eyes and thorned words wrapped in shattered glass and steel cords. Blood poured down from your nose and from the knives clutched in your bruised hands. Yet like a moth pulled towards the flame, I was drawn to the defiance poured into every line of you. And, somehow, irrevocably, you were drawn to me too.

You taught me what it was like to be rain after a storm - lying wanting and exhausted in a puddle at your feet.

We stole hellfire kisses in trenches and ruined streets, amid choking smoke. I learned how to sear want into your skin with my mouth. How to feed hunger into your eyes, and bite at it from between your thighs. When your touch lanced lightning through my body, I kissed the thunder from your lips and learned how to make love to a storm.

We may not have been made of blood and fire, but fire and blood made us. So when the dust settled, when there were no bodies left but ours, you caught my gaze from across the battlefield and I despaired. Because how could flames stay alive with no fuel nor oxygen?

But you knew how to simmer instead of burn.

You dripped honey instead of poison from your lips for me and traded your serrated blades for cautious fingertips that made me ache for more. You branded kisses into my skin, bit at the hunger on my lips, and on rainy nights we were a hurricane. You held, never gripped. Asked, never expected. You gave, and gave, and gave, and gave, and slowly I remembered how to give in return.

I knew the weight and breadth of your voice so I learned how to listen to the silence and the noise between. I learned how to guide air back into your lungs with kisses on the nights the ghosts sucked the wind out of your lungs. I knew how to catch your hand when your fingers sought mine, and on rare occasions when my heart was light, I returned your smile just to watch yours grow brighter.

I’ve been tagged by the lovely @jamieanovels @ghost-coven @praise-the-lord-im-dead !! Thanks for thinking of me y’all! <3 <3

Rules:  List the first lines of your last 20 stories.  See if there are any patterns, then tag your favorite writers!

Okay, I’ll be honest, I was really hesitant to do one of these because I definitely have less than 20 stories. So I’ll share the first lines of my standing WIPs + some one-shots I’ve written for my WIPs :O It’ll be fun to look back on this later and see how much it will change.

anxiety ties my tongue into knots

when you ask me to explain what i’m feeling

i try to elaborate but then the words just detonate inside my mouth they don’t make it out they turn into ash in my mouth then i can’t 

speak.

the thoughts that are dragging me down 

are

too deep

Quietly, you showed me what it's like to feel alone, Sitting on a boat built for two, In the clear ripples of the lonely ocean blue. The music had me dancing on a string at your fingertips, I, Was your puppet for every coaxed whim Something must fall and Someone must leave I must fall deaf to your every need No heart should be a toy, scattered along memory lane's cobblestone pathway No heart should be played, like you played mine, in a game of cards where you placed piled shuffled and folded with the kings queens, jacks and most importantly jokers. You waltzed away and showed me what it's like to fall through empty promises, when lies grew the gaps of a cracking heart to a void and with a careless, ruthless mile, the desert wind you came with, the same one that swept me off my feet, and tumbled me head over heels, and into your hands Swept you away. and left me. And you slipped through my grasp, like a thief in the night.