believer (bwwm)

believer (bwwm)

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WpMetadataReadComplete Thu, May 10, 20181h 28m
He gripped my arm, pulling me into his grace. I won't lie, he smelled as great as he usually did, but somehow his smell was much better today. My nose follicles were thrusted into, as I pulled away from his hug, not wanting to be perceived as a freak. "I miss you." he said, as I nodded, and the waterworks came. Damn I hated crying. "I missed you too." I said, as he re-wrapped his arms around me. "It's okay baby, let it all out." he said, patting my head. Damn I really missed my bestfriend. He was my heart, my everything, and my first love. *ranked #1 in Stephen James July 2018* *ranked #2 in Stripper August 2018* *ranked #1 in queenpin September 2019* ☯︎ this is a short story, be well aware. ☯︎
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stephenjames
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BOOK ONE Coming out was supposed to set Julian free. Instead, it left him with a broken arm, a mother who won't stop preaching, and a silence that grows heavier every day. High school feels like a cage, and Julian is certain he doesn't belong anywhere-until Paul crashes into his world. With his inked skin, effortless charm, and a following that makes him untouchable, Paul should be the last person Julian lets close. Loving Paul means risking exposure, rejection, and heartbreak all over again. Worse, it means facing the cruelest voice of all-the one inside Julian's own head. Tender, raw, and unflinching, Open is a story about first love, first heartbreak, and finding the courage to believe you're worthy of both. ::: I could feel it when his body finally went slack, when he'd fallen asleep and soft snores emitted. And I thought I was getting better at this breaking down thing... I honestly did but when I was alone, I seemed to fall apart. Endless serenades of how worthless I'd been and how destructive I was; I was a disappointment to literally everyone and I hated it. My breathing became shallow as I cried for the second time that day, finally feeling content being immersed in guilt. A shudder wracked through my body, tears escaping and Paul pulled me closer as he woke silently. Mumbling soft nothings against my skin and kissing it to slow my breathing, he tried to lull me to sleep, "It's okay, you're okay." Refusing to speak -my voice failing me- his arm came up to wrap around my shoulder and I held him there, placing a small kiss to his tattooed skin in a broken sign of gratitude, I must've run out of tears. And I felt at ease.

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