Bittersweet » styles au

call → t w o

Bittersweet → call t w o

❝In which he loves her flaws more than her perfections.❞

Friday I didn't call you because I knew you wouldn't pick up; on Friday you always go to Manchester to visit your family.

On Saturday I did call you, and I had counted three rings until I heard you familiar breathing.

'I hope you had fun visiting your family,' I said.

You didn't answer.

I started to miss your perfect, angelic voice.

But the thought that I maybe won't ever hear it again, scared me.

So I forced myself to think about something different.

I failed.

'Why won't you ever talk to me?' I asked.

You didn't answer.

I started to miss your perfect deepbrown eyes.

But the tought that I maybe won't ever see them again, scared me.

So I forced myself to think about something different.

I failed.

'I really miss you,' I said.

You didn't answer, but for a second I thought you might.

It was probably just my imagination.

I started to miss your freckled, soft skin.

But the thought that I maybe won't ever touch it again, scared me.

So I forced myself to think about something different.

I failed.

'Maybe it's better for the both of us if I won't call you again,' I said.

But I know I didn't mean it.

And then I hung up, because my voice started to sound weird.

I love how you stutter at the word okay, but I hate how you try to avoid pronouncing it.