high noon
It's always him calling.
He calls once a day, never failing. Usually at night, but sometimes in the early morning when she still has bad breath and a sticky neck.
It's been three months. She talks to him normally, but sometimes she wishes that he would just give up. It's been three months. It's not the same anymore. It's hard. She's afraid. She kind of, sort of, maybe, wants to move on, live and forget.
Kind of.
YOU ARE READING
In the Art of Falling
Romance"I got your message," he says. She nods, falling into those eyes. Those eyes... "You came back." "Yeah, I did," she whispers, "And I'm not leaving." When they kiss, everyone else can't help but look on and wish they had what they have. The song lyri...
