He traces tiny little circles on the lines of my palm, looking all so serious. "Can you really read palms?" I ask. "Yes," He says. "What's my future then?" And I swear, his eyes light up like a thousand fireflies, and a smile crosses his lips for the first time. "Us."
"What kind of chapstick do you use?" Finn questioned, placing his chin against the top of her head. "Peach," He licked his lips for the hundredth time that night, trying to imagine the feeling of hers against them. "Oh, well, it tastes nice," ♡ in which an angry boy is unhappy, and an unusually happy girl wishes t...
