#softlove

The sparks.

The wildfire.

She wanted the slow burn.

The kind that lingers on fingertips.

The kind that learns every scar by heart.

The kind that kisses with intention

and stays after the passion fades.

She wanted to be wanted.

Not just for a moment.

╰☆☆ ᴀ ǫᴜɪᴇᴛ ᴀғᴛᴇʀɴᴏᴏɴ, ᴀɴ ᴀɴᴛɪǫᴜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋsᴛᴏʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ sʜᴀʀᴇᴅ ʙᴏᴏᴋ. ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ, sʜᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ʟɪᴀᴍ—ᴀ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴍs, ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ sᴍɪʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴛᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀsᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ sᴛᴀʀᴛs ᴀs ᴀ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏᴏᴅᴇɴ sʜᴇʟᴠᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʟᴅ ᴘᴀɢᴇs sʟᴏᴡʟʏ ᴛᴜʀɴs ɪɴᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ғᴇᴇʟs ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ. 

╰☆☆ ᴡᴄ: ~𝟻𝟻𝟶 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

╰☆☆ ᴄᴡ: ғʟᴜғғ, ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ, sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀs ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀs, ʙᴏᴏᴋsᴛᴏʀᴇ sᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ғɪʀsᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ, sᴏғᴛ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪɴsᴇʀᴛ (ʏ/ɴ)

╰☆☆ ᴀ/ɴ: sᴏʀʀʏ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇʟᴀʏ ɢᴜʏs, ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ. sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ғʟᴜғғʏ ᴀɴᴅ sᴏғᴛ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ! 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ✶· ─ · · ✶· ─ · · ✶· ─ · · ✶· ─ · · ✶· ─ · · ✶· ─ · · ✶· ─ · · ✶· ─ · ·

Today was a nice day, so I decided to go on a walk. The sky was clear, and the air was crisp but not uncomfortable against my skin; the clouds looked round and puffy, as if they were made of cotton candy.

I stumbled across a small antique bookstore I’d never seen before. A sign on the window caught my attention: “Books up to 30% off,” so I decided to go inside. As I walked through the door, the cozy and warm ambiance surrounded me; it felt as if a warm hug had wrapped around me.

Everything was made of wood: the bookshelves, the flooring, the stairs, and even the counter. I immersed myself in the store, walking through the aisles. A kind lady welcomed me and showed me around a little; I decided to start in the romance/poetry section. I was looking for something new to read—a palate cleanser. I’m mostly interested in suspense and mystery books, so it was time for a change.

As I browsed the shelves and stacks upon stacks of books, I found one that caught my attention. I reached for it, but at the same time, someone else did.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” a warm and sweet voice said. “Go ahead.”

I turned my gaze toward him. A brown-haired guy with a gentle smile was standing beside me.

“Thank you,” I said in a shaky voice. I hate being a nuisance to anybody.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” he said. “I’m Liam, nice to meet you. That’s a nice book you got there; I’ve been looking for it all around the city.”

He chuckled. His tone was comforting, and I could see his eyes soften as he smiled again.

“(Y/N). Nice to meet you too.” I looked down at the book in my hands. “So… have you read it before?”

Oh my god, what a stupid question, I thought.

“Well…” He gently took the book from my hands. “Not this one, but I’ve read some other works by the same author.”

He handed the book back to me.

“Guess I’ll see you around.”

And as quickly as he arrived, he left.

He had such a peaceful, velvety voice that I knew I wouldn’t be able to forget it. I kept looking around for a couple more minutes and grabbed a few more books until I realized it was enough—or my bank account was going to suffer.

I was walking toward the counter when I saw him again. This time, I got a better glimpse of him. His arms were covered in tattoos; he was wearing a white T-shirt that hinted at the artwork beneath the sleeves.

He must have felt me staring because he turned around and started walking toward me.

“Hey, (Y/N), I was hoping to catch you before you left.” He scratched the back of his head. “Would you like to… um…”

“Yes,” I said. “I would love to.”

The cashier called me to pay for the books I was carrying.

Liam and I left the store together and walked across the street to grab a coffee. We talked for hours about books and our favorite authors. He was an insightful, caring man with such a warm personality.

This was definitely the change I needed.

╰☆☆ ᴀ/ɴ: ʜᴇʏ ɢᴜʏs, ʜᴏᴡ ᴡᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴇᴇᴋᴇɴᴅ? ᴍɪɴᴇ ᴡᴀs ɪɴ -ᴢᴀʏɴ (ɪɴsᴀɴᴇ) ɪ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴢᴀʏɴ ᴍᴀʟɪᴋ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏɴɴᴀᴋᴏʟ ᴛᴏᴜʀ!! ɪ ᴡᴀs sᴏ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴅ, sᴏ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ sᴛʀɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀs ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇxᴛʀᴏᴠᴇʀᴛ ᴄᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ɪs ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇ. ʙᴛᴡ, ʜᴇ ɪs ᴀs ʜᴀɴᴅsᴏᴍᴇ ᴀs ᴡᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ.

╰☆☆ ᴀ/ɴ: ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴘᴏʀᴛᴜɴɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏs ʟɪᴠᴇ, sᴏ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴇᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀs sᴏʟᴏ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs ɴᴏᴡ. ɪ'ᴠᴇ sᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀʀʀʏ, ɴɪᴀʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ᴢᴀʏɴ, ɪᴍ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴғɪɴɪᴛʏ sᴛᴏɴᴇs ʜᴀʜᴀʜᴀ

╰☆☆ ᴀ/ɴ: ᴡᴇʟʟ, ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏs ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪs sʜᴏʀᴛ sᴛᴏʀʏ. ɪ ᴡᴀs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏᴅ ᴏғ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ, ᴡᴀʀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀᴛ ғɪʀsᴛ sɪɢʜᴛ-ɪsʜ. ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʟᴇɴᴅᴀʀ ɪ ᴘᴏsᴛᴇᴅ, ɪ sᴡᴇᴀʀ!!

★·.·´¯`·.·★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ★·.·´¯`·.·★

Sometimes love is what we are brave enough to put in order when no one is watching.

It is choosing not to live between two worlds anymore.

It is making room for truth, even when truth is complicated.

It is understanding that peace is not promised by words,

but built slowly, honestly, one difficult step at a time.

And maybe that is the hardest part.

Not the feeling.

Not the longing.

Not the tenderness.

But the courage to make life honest enough

for love to have a place to stand.

Because sometimes love is not asking someone to run toward you.

the calendar way of saying everything → unveil.day

you'll marry someone who plans the trip

the calendar way of saying everything → unveil.day

due to my emotional nature