68 ❀ I can still write a thousand sonnets

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I CAN STILLWRITE A THOUSANDSONNETS

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I CAN STILL
WRITE A
THOUSAND
SONNETS

00:68

November 27

**✿❀ ❀✿**

DO YOU CARE WHAT I HAVE TO SAY? EVEN
if I were to forget the same language you spoke against my skin? The same mother tongue that lay between my thighs? Can I still hold your eyes until it begins piercing through every atom of my body?

I could stay here for you until you eat me whole. I'd do that. Just for you— at least. I guess maybe you do care about what I have to say because you're reading this now. Aren't you?

I've not bored you yet.

Right?

It's cold. The air was cold, but her skin was colder. Y/n's skin, that is. She groggily

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Everything I've done was wrong. I couldn't even do one thing right.

She stood up from her bed, her floorboards felt... cold. They always do. But, They feel colder now. The air is thin, or heavy. Was it thick? As if the blood falling from a full tub has stained the floor, maybe that too was this feeling. Everything felt. Different.

It's been a while. Hasn't it? It has. Maybe I could stain your own if I hadn't known any better. You can wait longer, I'll make you wait longer.

Y/n stretched her back, she remembered whenever her back ached she'd just complain about it. It hurts, badly? Her head feels like it's going to explode, maybe it will. Maybe it should. It's been too long.

When she had collected herself she hadn't, truly, collected herself. Her mind was screaming in a million different languages, walking down the hallway— the floorboards only got more inhospitable.

The toilet broke. You need to fix it.

It's Thanksgiving, nothing will be open, Y/n.

Who can I even call? She took a deep breath, scratching her face roughly. "Ugh."

"Hey, Kiddo. I came straight here as soon as you texted me." Maverick sent a cheeky smile when he walked through the door, Y/n was groggily holding it open behind him. "I called you first but alright." She mumbled under her breath.

"Where your little fart?" Maverick brought his tool box with him, or tool luggage... Y/n stared at it weirdly while he went through it. Is fixing a toilet really that daunting? Did it take all of this? "Is this really necessary?" She glanced over from behind him.

"Do you need all of this to fix the toilet?" Maverick shook his head, facing his palm towards her. "We never know what the day holds, little one." He pats her head before strutting towards the restroom.

Abigail pops through, happily greeting Maverick. "Hi!" She waves.

"My favorite girl! Want to see how to fix that toilet of yours?" For some reason, a broken toilet has become the most interesting thing to Abigail. Following him, Abigail prepares to learn how to fix their only toilet. She won't retain any of the information but, she might hand a tool or two.

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