#wclftrap

You’re overthinking again, breath. The words kept running through Sawyer’s mind while she slowly cleaned her face with shaking hands, it was incridible like her mind could go from 8 miles to 80 in the blink of an eye, she looked herself at the mirror again, she had dark circles under her eyes and pale lips, but she was still the same as usual, tired? Of course, but everyone had those days, especially with a fussy baby at home. It didn’t, however, stopped her from spiraling out of control on the self loathing route going over all the list of things she needed to try to fix about herself. Those dark circles were one of the least worrying things to her at the moment, but she didn’t dare to speak about that out loud, she didn’t have to, it was like everyone was just waiting for her to breakdown and cry about how fat or ugly she felt. She didn’t want to do that. She was trying hard not to, so instead of crying she was trying to get back to her routine. 

Healthy food, gymn, skin care, make up, everything that could give her a little sense of normacy or beauty. She tried for a while to go back to her old clothing style, with cute lingeries and sking tight shirts and plaid skirts, yet she felt horrible everytime a piece would hug her new curves, so of course she had to the joy of many had made herself comfortable in a pair of sweatpants and Gabriel’s t-shirts, sometimes just the later being used to sleep like right at that moment. She stopped for a second to actually look at her face more carefully, there wasn’t much that had change, she still looked like the same as before, she just felt different and she was freaking out not knowing why she felt so fucking terrible when she was happy to were she had got, she was greatful to everything she had and yet...That stupid mirror was causing her to want to punch it down to little shards of glass. A deep sigh left her lips before she entered the bedroom in silence, Gabriel was sitting at the edge of the bed, she made sure to avoid making noises even tho she knew that he knew that she was there and his voice sounding so firmly and yet so quietly made her assured of that.

She thought about saying no, or maybe just casually pretend that she wasn't hearing, that she had turned her hearing aids off already and it was impossible for her to attend to such a simple request. Denying him to another sense, however, seemed too cruel even for her damaged mind, and although she felt sad and angry none of those feelings were felt towards him so there were no good reasons for her lack of response. There was a soft silence roaming the air, filling the room with that so-known feeling of everything falling directly to its place, there was no impatience coming in her direction, but she could see that there was a little hesitation like he was able to hear her thinking, like a silent plea for her not to step back, for her not to run away from his hands when it was the only way he could look at her. Like a scratch in the back of her throat the word 'no' kept crawling its way up to the tip of her tongue making it almost tickle, yet she took a step forward.

Another quiet moment passed by, he kept his hands to himself, he always did in moments like this, Sawyer had always thanked him for that, for letting her dictate how and when and where she wanted to be touched, It gave her a sense of not only control, but also the safety she needed to allow him to have her as no one else could. She often wondered if things would be harder for them if he was actually able to see her, if she would feel even more scared of his judgment, of what he thought about her because looks could be deceiving, but not touches. He was great at reading people with his hands, objects, animals, his touch was one of those senses that could be considered superhuman, it was actually just really well trained and developed by years of practice, but still she trusted his hands to tell the truth, she trusted them since the moment when his fingertips had traced every piece of scar on her back and there wasn't disgust on his face or pity, there was just that expression he did when he was trying to memorize something like he was reading the words on a book and above all he always made it seem like she was a far more pretty and interesting book that she really was. So it was no wonder that she kept thinking that maybe if he could actually would he be able to control his expressions that well? Would he still make her feel the way she felt?

She gently grabbed the palm of his hands and pulled it up, there was a sigh of relief coming from his lips and she bit hers at the same time, her hands took his into guidance till she felt his fingertips touch her cheekbones. Her own fingertips slipped at little going from his palms to his wrists little circles being made there before she ran her nails through his arms resting her hands on the side of her own body, there was a moment of shift, even with her hearing aids on low she could still hear the soft change on his breath, that was something she usually didn't allow him to do, be able to control where to go with his hands, usually there was always her hands on his, guiding, stopping him or just making detours to stop him from touching what she didn't like about herself. Of course there were so many moments she hadn't been so controlling, but lately she could barely make herself go through his touches while her hands were over his less alone let him just be free to take what he wanted, yet she wanted that at this moment. She craved for him to touch her in that slow and beautiful way that only his fingers could.

If brokenness was a form of art she would be the poster child for it, a true masterpiece made of so many little parts of herself that were in all the wrong places after being glued by shaking hands of a girl who wasn't able to look herself at the mirror and he was the only one who could run his fingers through the cracks and still make her proud of still being standing there with her soul being stripped in front of her. His fingers were cold, there were small bumps in his skin because of the guitar strings and little cuts on his palms for all of the times he had accidentally cut himself while cooking, still his hands were soft and comfortable. Familiar. That was the word she was always looking for when describing his touches. His fingers ran slowly through her face, touching her cheeks, and her eyes, softly caressing every little stop he was able to with his thumbs, there was a brief pause on her upper lips, she was almost waiting from him to trace her lips, but his fingers stopped and made their way to her nose pinching the bridge of her nostrils making her chuckle. That put a smile to his face, a soft one. She sighed, she loved his smile, she loved his whole face, but she could look at that smile the whole day and not get tired of it.

When he finally touched her lips he made sure of taking his time, touching it gently, running his fingertip to every piece of it, her lips were half open and she fought the urge to catch his thumb between them. “ Careful, I might bite you... ” This time he was the one who chuckled, his expression lighting up even among all the interest and concentration that he was showing, his head being shaken and his lips were licked and she couldn't help herself, her face was brought closer to him and her lips caught his in a soft kiss, no tongue, no sudden passion of someone who just want to rip his clothes off as usually she would, there was just that soft and innocent kiss, lips with lips, like two teens afraid of what the other might think if they made more moves than just a little soft touch of lips a couple of times. He was the one who broke contact. “ Excuse me, I was in the middle of something... ” His voice wasn't angry, but it was firm and she nodded a bit before whispering a soft 'go-ahead.'

Vou fazer um top 5 da playlist de nossa querida Amora Romero.

what  they know abou loneliness.

Mais do que gostaria, definitivamente. Ela sabe como é sentir a solidão de se estar completamente sozinha no universo mesmo quando cercada de pessoas, ela sabe como dói você não conseguir de forma alguma preencher o vazio e como as pessoas vão a extremos para fazê-lo e acima de tudo ela sabe o quanto ela odeia a sensação.

what they don’t know about loneliness.

Como fazer ir embora. Nem a dela e nem a de outros, afinal só estar com as pessoas muitas vezes não é suficiente.