#same man same

when you're only wearing his favorite long, red sweatshirt, tip toeing on a chair to reach for something on the high shelf and the shirt starts to ride up just nearly inches above the back of your high plush thighs. his eyes just burn attentively to the exposing skin that homed beneath his "borrowed" top, carefully strides up behind you and delicately smooths up both of his wide palms at the back of your tender under thighs, drifting up up up, until you twitch from the sudden graze and promptly twirl your hips to smack him in the face (which he loved btw).

"Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so..."

I miss Davepeta