She said I was rad ^_^
(Source: dirtroadswhiskeydreams, via total-desillusioniert)
I just want to sleep. Because she’s there. And everything makes more sense when I’m with her. Everyone else fades into the background. They sound a lot less loud. And we’re in the airport traveling far away. It’s a big airport with lots of elevators and stairs and even bridges. And we’ve got our tickets in our hands. We’re driving to the airport. We’ve got to go across town to get there. It’s the night before and we’re crammed into a tiny twin bed somewhere. It’s just us and we’re sneaking in somewhere. We’re 16 now. We haven’t met yet but we’re growing up together. Planning our escape. One day when we’re older we’re going to take a plane far away from here. From them. From the noise.
You ever feel like there’s someone you legitimately need. Like the thought of not being able to interact with them gives you anxiety?
It is dreadful when something weighs on your mind, not to have a soul to unburden yourself to. You know what I mean. I tell my piano the things I used to tell you. — Frédéric Chopin (via naimabarcelona)
It was getting late. The music and lights were turned low quite a while ago and nearly everyone had shuffled out. They slurred their ‘Thank You’s and ‘Good Bye’s as they abandoned half-filled cans on the coffee table. He shuffled behind them, out the door and onto the patio where he could feel the cold through his socks. A stray bottle sat atop the corner post where its soft reflection caught his attention. As he finished a wave, he grabbed it and made his way back through the red door. Red because he wasn’t sure if there was a better word for what’s half way in between magenta and crimson and yet a little bit darker than either of those sounded. That was what he was thinking when his half opened eyes noticed that she was still firmly nestled into the corner of his couch, legs crossed and a glass of Cabernet in hand. Maybe that’s what he would call the door: Cabernet. No, that’s a bit too dark to describe it. He yawned then glanced over to her, eyebrows slightly raised, his left hand still covering his mouth a bit. As he walked round to the other side of the couch, she set down her glass and slid herself down, stuffing a pillow under her head and stretching her legs out to where he would have been sitting after placing that almost-forgotten bottle amongst the cans and now her glass. She turned onto her side and smiled a bit at her own coyness as the brown of her eyes met the green of his. So of course, with his gaze fixed, he turned his head towards the other room and half smiled before glancing back behind him and then again to her. Both of them knew they were in control of the situation. Playing into each other’s subtle indications. He took her hand as she sat up and they walked the few steps to his bed where she waited until he peeled back the sheets and crawled in as if to lead the way. He lay on his side, holding up the blankets. That was when she did the thing that made him fall in love with her. A small act of endearing defiance, asserting that in reality she was the one guiding them. Funny how something can make such an impression simply for being unexpected and frankly a little odd. As she crawled in and rolled towards him, he couldn’t help but notice a throw pillow pushed into his lap like a ball of cotton squished between two spoons. Just a few more layers of fabric saying, “This will be a little more difficult than you thought”.
i’m such an asshole but i’m also a very kind-hearted person who likes making ppl happy and if i love u i will love u with all my heart and all my soul but then i’m also such an asshole