Steamboat Springs (H.S.)
- Reads 95
- Votes 12
- Parts 7
If you ever really need to just get away from the stress of life, the first thing you think of to do is to go to a random field out in the middle of nowhere and just lay sobbing in the grass watching clouds right? Well I did. And it was the most wonderful dumb decision of my life.
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𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓘𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓭 ~ 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻
𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝔀𝓮'𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭.. 𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓮𝓮.. 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓫𝔂 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮, 𝓐𝓷𝔂𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓮... 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰.. 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚠!! ‼ 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧 ‼ I'ᴍ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ/ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀɪᴛʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ. Bᴜᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪғ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏsᴛ.Complete
Soon, My Friend
𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨. A story about the blur between good intentions and bad timing - about everything you said you'd quit, and the people you only meet because you were too hungover to call in sick. It's Billie's mess, mostly. She just didn't mean for him to walk into it. ⧉ 𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙤𝙤𝙣, 𝙈𝙮 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣 𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨. ⏣ 𝙇𝙖𝙯𝙞𝙡𝙮, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙥𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝘼𝙄 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧.
cherry wine √ h.s.
and with the deafening mind of hers came a sorrow she submitted to. it was as if she was submerged underwater for years of her life, solely being focused on how everything was amplified beneath the surface. it was all very loud, similar to the volume of river rapids, and maybe the only way for her to subdue it was to plunge into the rapids themselves; allow the current to carry her body as far as it could. because all she wanted was silence, so silence she received. + lowercase intended. alternate universe. sad. sensitive topics. short story.Complete
Reincarnation of a lonely girl
I was standing at the school roof when suddenly.. *push* I fell from the school roof but I was dead by time I hit the ground because I couldn't breathe from all the air rushing in my face. It was over now... or was it
The thing about your first love is that even after it destroys you and you hide it away in the back of your closet, behind your old high school yearbooks and your winter sweaters, you can't quite forget about it. You pull it out every once in a while and turn it over in your hands and let it take you back to another time and place, Kensington Gardens in a thunderstorm, Oxford Circus at Christmas, the hottest spring day the city's ever seen. And you feel it. Frozen fingers and a sunburned nose and wet hair sticking to your face, and you know that being over it is harder than it seems.
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