Sometimes as the house moves, I can hear it's breathing over my lovers who sleeps soundly beside me. The hum of my grandfathers oxygen machine is drowned out by the creaking and shaking. I am the only one who seems to acknowledge it. My dog, who hears everything, doesn't bat an eye. My grandmother who wakes with every movement, falls still when the house moves. Just this year I have been allowed to keep my lover, hold him tight at night like I never thought I'd be able to. It's magic in the smallest form. And as it may be, after a 2am walk down the street, we suddenly fall silent. His body has gone limp, and his breathing silent, he doesn't open his eyes. I know he's asleep, and I want to sleep too. So, I push my body up to his back. Though I'd love for his arms to be around me, I couldn't bear to wake him. Not when he seems so completely peaceful in his spot in my bed.
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She Who Must Not Be Named
Teen FictionRosalyn Levin is a young sixteen year old girl who in the center of her high school life has found herself in a jam of toxic love. Rosalyn is a broken soul to start with, but can you truly break something that's already broken?
