Trevon 18+ (Editing)
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Última atualização ter, jan 4, 2022
He opens the door and instantly and pulls me inside. His mouth on mine like a magnet. My coat is in the way of all that wants and he drags the zipper down. I kick off my off my boots as I help him pull my arms out the jacket. He breaks the kiss and chuckles.
18+
This isn't a fairytale, sometimes love hurts. Slow Updates bc I only write when I 100% feel like it 🙃
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𝓗𝓲𝓶 ~ 𝓡𝓲𝓸 (𝖔𝖓 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉)
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𝑽𝑰𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑶𝑭 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬|Book 1
Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it a memory... You know you're in love when you can say anything to the person and you know they won't laugh at you. When you can see their face when you close your eyes. When you can still feel their arms around you holding you tight after they're gone. When you can still taste their kiss after you have said goodbye. You can tell you're in love when you miss them before they're gone. When their voice lingers in your ears. When their presence eases any pain. When their name sends chills down your spin. When they're the only thing you can think about. You know you're in love when you can see all their hopes and dreams and their soul when you look into their eyes. When they call you at four in the morning to say, "I Love You" and mean it. When your tears stain not only their shirt, but also their heart. When even a simple chore done with them can become a lasting memory. Ultimately, you know you're in love when you can't imagine living without them and can't figure how did you live before you knew them. When they fulfill every need and without them you're incomplete. The love of someone else completes the heart, and sound and mind all at once. 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎-𝐟𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟏𝟎, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏Concluída
What's more dangerous-the boy who wrecked her, or the man he's become? He's back, dragging their past behind him, setting fire to everything she's rebuilt. Hatred is easy. Walking away? Impossible. ________________ Damn him. Damn him for looking at me like that. For touching me like that. For acting as though he cared, when his actions and words spoke volumes to the contrary. I stop walking. The silence between us stretches, pulling tight, thrumming with something I refuse to name. I turn my head, just enough to catch the shape of him in the dying light. He's still standing there, still watching, like he's waiting. I force my voice to stay steady, to cut through the distance between us with all the venom I have left. "I hate you, Skepta Aldridge."
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