Wicked Games
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Feb 7, 2017
I. Let's start by not calling it love. II. Your scent still stinks in my skin and you smell like pot and nicotine. You left a trail on my hair so you can find me anywhere. III. When I close my eyes I could still feel your hands tracing the weakest parts of me. And the warmth of your palm easing the ache of my misery. IV. I knew that our fire won't last long but the fact that I have enjoyed the sparks when we ignited was enough for me so I chose to burn with you. V. And my bones blaze along with your sighs and conflagrate my soul with your breathing. VI. Your heat almost felt like love. VII. I know how good you are in turning memories into ashes but ours was crimated beautifully. VIII. I like staring at you while you're sleeping and imagining the scene of how you would leave me one day. Because I could see it coming. I don't know how soon but it will come anyway. IX. Us- A short-lived flame that burned everything. X. Let's stop by not calling it love.
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There are moments in life so small, so ordinary, that you barely notice when everything changes. A glance held a little too long. A laugh that feels different in your chest. A touch that lingers. She became my best friend, my constant. Late-night calls, endless adventures, secrets whispered into the dark. It was always easy with her, natural. Safe. But somewhere between laughter and promises, something shifted. I didn't know it at first-not really. I just knew that when she smiled, it felt like the sun had chosen me. That when she cried, it hurt more than my own heartbreaks. That when she was near, the world made a little more sense. This is the story of how we found each other-not as we were, but as we were meant to be. From friends, to lovers, and somewhere even deeper than that. Because sometimes, the greatest love stories start with a simple truth: it was always you.

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