PHEEVR
- Reads 6,496
- Votes 398
- Parts 14
β Your whispers still haunt my skin, caressing my scars, nipping at my flesh. That's why it often itches.β 
                                                   
                     [π¬]      πππππππΌπΏπππππ
"I like your sketches." Felix hummed. 
"I don't."
In which a stoner always finds the same quiet boy, in the same place β sketching.