𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 | ʙᴏᴀʀᴅᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴇᴍᴘɪʀᴇ x ғᴀʀɢᴏ s4
skipping, dancing across oil-slick sidewalk, kisses pressed in clouds of smoke, heels scuffed by metal. the pout of needy lips. the shaking of restless hands. the hundred year old dust of a single gunshot, echoing through the mind of a fifteen year old to be turned out and grown over, roses and fountains. a flat cap s...
