quietly stepping out of his room, floorboards creak under his feet. the deathly silence in the night drowns scaramouche, gripping at his throat as his heart palpitates in his chest. fingers clutching onto the hem of his shirt, the boy tiptoes down the steps. the consuming silence flooded his thoughts with a plea for you to be with him right now- you were all he needed. his solace. his home.
music in his headphones as he slips out of the front door, gingerly shutting it, stepping out onto the streets at 2am. so unlike of him to be out so late, unable to sleep just because of someone. falling in love in just that 3 nights he spent with you, utterly foolish. he knew he should have stopped at one. he should never have came back to you, but oh how he craved your touch. your voice. your smile. those november days haunting him, your presence lingering in his mind, he could almost feel the ghostly touch of your fingers as he exhaled shakily, shuffling down the streets.
he wished he could see you. he wished he could follow you everywhere. it was just an accident, really, when he followed you to your favourite field of sunflowers. he stood so close yet so far from you, astounded to see how the gold rays fell on your skin, how your hair got caught in the wind, he swore he could feel his heart sing a melancholic hymn to the gods, begging you to just turn, to notice him, to love him, to remember everything you had shared just a night before...
skin against skin, he took in your tantalising breath, the way you looked ethereal- a fucking goddess, he thought. quietly, his lips trail across your skin in an attempt to convey the words he dare not utter, the feelings he tried to hard to suppress. you both knew this wouldn't last- for gods sake, it was called a one-night-stand for a reason. but one night became two, and two became three... he couldnt help the urge to yearn for you. to worship you, to be the only one you loved. imagine his dismay when he woke up the next morning, expecting to feel your soft body in his arms, only to be met with a pillow that couldn't compare to your warmth, your softness. you were gone- just like that, with a little note which he couldn't be bothered to read. twisting in the sheets, he let out a long drawn groan, mourning and trying to hold on desperately to the last feel of your lips on his.
god, hes so lovesick. what have you done to me?
20.07.24
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a/n
STARTING OFF WITH LOVESICK I LOVE THIS SONG SM was rushed bc im bored and wasted time writing this instead of studying for exam like 2 days away
