𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟸𝚝𝚑
I can't remember the last time I smiled and actually meant it. I want my cheeks to hurt because genuinely can't stop smiling, instead of because I'm holding it so I'm not the only one frowning.
Noah calls me Smiley when he isn't calling me Gizz Gizz, he says I'm not Giselle without a smile, and that if he saw me sad he'd go on a no-sex ban for the rest of his life, which is his definition of torture.
"I wish I was like you, Smiley," he told me one drunken night, his head resting in my lap, as he cried over Layla, the love of his life, or so he says.
"Yeah?" I asked.
He didn't know what he was wishing for.
"You never let the world get you down," he said.
I didn't have the heart to tell him the world had crushed me at her heel years ago, and she never let me get up.
I'd like to think I make people happy, put a smile on their faces, it's ok that they don't do it for me, though sometimes I wish they would.
In the solar system, I'm a star, one of the far and nameless ones.
Stars are pretty, I like them, but they're never the sun, and never the moon.
If I wasn't a human I'd be a star.
Most days I'm fine with that, but on others, I kind of wish I could be someone's sun or moon.
It won't happen.
YOU ARE READING
If The World Ends Tomorrow | ONGOING
عاطفية.・。.・゜✭・. 𝙶𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘, 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛...
