"alice?" he whispered, his voice nervous. "yeah?" she replied absent mindedly, stirring the coffee in the dark red cup with her spoon. "i love you," he said. an uncomfortable silence filled the air. "i love you, alice," he repeated, looking at her. her head was bent as she spooned the cream and only strands of her ginger hair hung from the sides of her face. "okay," she replied. [© noiembrie; cover by @aciddaisies] short story #76, romance #383, thirteenth july two thousand thirteen.

❝When I met you . . . you're the first person in my life, besides my family, that treated me like a regular human being. You're my first friend and my best friend. I would be lying if I said meeting you wasn't most the most important day of my life. And the one that would end up eventually ruining it.❞-Annalise Martin. Annalise Martin's skies are painted darkly, filled with darkness from a life many would not wish to lead. Through a series of letters, Annalise hopes to find closure over losing her best friend and lover, Finland Erickson. But sometimes, we need a little bit of perspective to paint our own skies. Cover art by: norhuu on tumblr