Tonight, he’d looked broken. She’d been afraid to touch him, as if one brush of skin would send him shattering into a million pieces. But then she had, and he’d clung to her as if...
She almost wished she smoked, so she could lie on the car’s hood, flick a lighter, and make up names for the constellations while nicotine burned her lungs.
When you’re sure of what you want, I’ll be right here.
He offered to make-out with Hunter if it would prove that he’s ok with me being gay.””Hmm,” said Adam. “Yeah I think I need to see proof.””Shut up.””Tell him it has to be shirtless. Wait,...
You know what sucks about sorry? It’s the worst word in the world. Because it always happens after you fuck up something good.
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