32 | his antipathic world

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his antipathic world

i tried to describe you to someone today, but i couldn't tell them about how i always wanted you more than just heated gazes and brushes of arms and legs against searing skins. i yearned for you more than the unspoken words said through teeth and tongues, and the rush of electricity of my hand through your hair down to the curve of your slender neck. with you, it always felt like home. you made me feel like the sky — when light returns after each cycle of darkness. when all words failed, i only told them that you're everything i could ever wish for.

(Aillard)


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Wren sat across the dining table, clad in my white button-down shirt

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Wren sat across the dining table, clad in my white button-down shirt. Her hair was a beautiful mess of brown waves against the gentle sunlight and her pale eyes remained fixed on the documents she held in her hand. Her other hand reached for the handle of her coffee mug, taking a sip before she settled it down on the coaster and grabbed a bite onto the toast from her breakfast plate. My eyes had been tracing her moves since she had her gaze all glued on the words on the sheets of paper ahead of her. I sat on the other end of the dining table, with all my attention on her and unable to comprehend a single thing in the newspaper that I held in front of me. 

"Sir, you had been staring at her so fervently, as though you're about to devour her in full," Grecia teased quietly, settling a plate of fruits on the dining table. 

I quickly snapped my gaze onto the lady who was smiling warmly at me now and I felt my cheeks heating up somehow. I let out a dry cough and replied in a faint voice, "Grecia, please do not tease me." 

Wren piped in after hearing my cough, but seemingly unaware of our conversation. She only asked, "Aillard, are you feeling unwell?" 

"Sir is definitely fine," Grecia chuckled, but finally sparing me when she quickly changed the topic by checking on Wren, "Are you having enough for breakfast, sweetheart?" 

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