reconsider

him;

him;

her words paint an orchestra of security. that’s what i feel when i’m with her. secure. i don’t think she realises just how special she is. i don’t think i quite know the full extent of her beauty myself.

she’s as obvious as the colour of the sea, yet as ambiguous as its tones. she's as graceful as the waves yet she’s as fragile as each break of the tide, and hidden just as the things she keeps under the surface. she’s a mystery, but the first mystery i crave to drown in.

her orchestra halts for a minute, and i wonder if i did anything. but i didn’t, i was lying perfectly still. she moves. the contact from her vanishes and i’m left in a strange and foreign state of sadness. it’s not the sadness i felt today at the funeral, it’s different. i need her to be next to me.

i can hear her shuffling around. but then. she’s next to me again. she doesn’t continue to sing anymore, but now her head rests beside mine, and our arms are touching.

i don’t think i could bear for her to leave me.

>>> i'm watching peter pan at 1.30am my friends. but i just wanted to post something again. dudes & dudettes, seriously, peter pan is freaking amazing. have a lovely day