It isn't just happiness. It cannot really be defined by words but we try our very best.
It's euphoria, a bliss that sends trails of feather light kisses down upon your body, spreading through the ventricular arteries and settling itself in the pit of your chest.
It is contentment in the purest, most raw form. It is warm, butterscotch sunlight filtering through a window and painting the walls of your room golden.
It is the caramelized pages off a book that has been read a thousand and more times; open to countless eyes, a different version of the story to every pair.
It is love, and not the artificial kind; that goes away, or is simply the product of a chemical reaction inside of your brain due to your attraction towards another human.
It is a soul kiss, not scalding hot, nor a hypothermic chill. It is a blanket fresh out of the dryer, a sun soaked patch of grass in the middle of an endless field.
In one, infinitesimal moment; it is everything. That you see, that you feel, that you would be content dying with.
Some people argue that happiness for the rest of your life is what we should look for, should seek out and destroy for.
But really, just happiness is overrated in alot of ways
For when you see them, that one little moment is what I would want to bask in for the rest of my life.
YOU ARE READING
Bill Skarsgård • Roman Godfrey Imagines
FanfictionBill and the characters that he plays ⌁ A place where you can read about all the unlikely scenarios your mind comes up with ↚ Enjoy lovelies ☽ ♡
