Little talks.

In which dead eyes look like fireworks.

In which dead eyes look like fireworks.

Lucy: Naomi, I need to talk to you.

Me: yeah?

Lucy: I lied.

Me: about what exactly?

Lucy: I love you.

Lucy: I still love you.

Lucy: even if we haven't spoken in thirty-two days, I love you.

Me: I've missed you.

Lucy: your eyes look like they're finally happy.

Lucy: like fireworks.

Me: ...

Lucy: ...

Me: I can't believe you just kissed me.

Lucy: I was being poetic, it just happened.

Me: it was nice.

Lucy: ...

Me: ...

Lucy: it's more than nice. It's feels like heaven.