I'm the hero of this story, I don't need to be saved.
Forever curious, intolerably charming & a girl with lots to say. A home wrecker with a heart of gold. I have horrendous taste in the opposite sex, but my pick of the female form is second-to-none. A 23 year old wanderer, who is not lost.
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You ask me what I’m afraid of, and I whisper, ‘everything’ with a smile on my lips. Your boyish grin makes my stomach flutter. I quickly change the subject, but like a dog with a bone - you ask me to be serious for a minute.
'I'm afraid that if I answer your question, my fear will come true'.
I’m afraid that one day our conversation will turn to love, as it always does, and you’ll apologise for everything we’ve been through, like you always do. I’m afraid in that moment, you’ll feel the need to ask me the question you have ached to since almost before we met. I’m afraid that I’ll be weakened by the notion that love doesn’t have to hurt, and that I’ll answer truthfully.
‘Are you still in love with me?’ you will ask, eyes fixed on mine.
‘How could I not be?’ I will answer.
I don’t say any of that. Instead, I laugh and reply, ‘Fear comes from the possibility of losing something that you once had. I’m not afraid of anything’.
this is what a hero looks like (w.k.)
He laughed at their jokes as his hand caressed my knee, excused himself and whispered ‘come with me’ in my ear as he passed. My heart pounded in my chest as I rose and followed him to the back of the house. He smiled at me, the smile that had already became my favourite thing. I opened my mouth to speak, and suddenly his mouth was on mine and we were kissing and I didn’t want to be doing anything else. He pulled away, quicker than I would of liked, and as he took my face in his hand he kissed me one final kiss, delicate as silk, and murmured, ‘now, you have to come back’, and rejoined the party, leaving me speechless and weak in his wake.