His POV

"It's frustrating how long it takes you to build up all these good things about you, only to be reduced by one single flaw someone saw in you."

She looked down on her hands and started fidgeting with her fingers. The sad look on her face made me want to start a war. I pushed the silly thought at the back of my head. I'm no hero so I settled for comforting her with my words, and meant everything I said.

"Each person sees and looks at us differently." I started. "We have different versions of ourselves in all the people we meet. What matters is what version you are to the people important to you."

She looked at me incredulously and asked, "And what version do you have of me in your odd but beautiful mind?"

"It's not just a version, it's a fact." I said. "And not anyone's version can change what I think of you." She leaned closer to me, all curious and pretty.

"To me you're plenty talented and smart, I could talk just about anything with you. You think and care too deeply, that's why you're such a worrier and hurt easily. But that's what I love about you, your depth. You're the most considerate person I know. I guess it's because a lot of the people around you never took the time to consider you, and so you make it your life's mission never to let anyone feel that way. It's my favorite thing about you. Though I wish you'd treat yourself the way you treat others."

I nudged her shoulder with mine and smiled at her. She gaped, looking at me anew. I could kiss her silly, but I don't, instead I chuckle and my mouth itches just thinking about it.

"I just think you're a beautiful person. Inside and out. And no one can convince me otherwise."

I wish I could tell her more, that I love her. It's not the platonic kind of love. But I don't tell her, instead I stare at her when I think she's not looking. I daydream of her on days when she's not with me. I collect the butterflies I get in my stomach from our occasional skin contact. And I crave the highs I get from her smiles alone and just her being near me.

To Samson from D. I was tied to the silver But darling you caught me off-kilter My moves were decided by the coin's dictator And that's how history painted me a traitor The books talked about your tragedy And nothing about you and me The crickets in the night were my witness I sang you lullabies under the moonlight's dimness Remember how I held you close And told you how I loved you the most Oh it couldn't last forever As your nemesis demands our ties to sever You found me with a knife in hand And your God-given gift gone Streams of tears rolled down my cheeks You kissed them away and said they tasted sweet All night you loved me until the break of day All morning you loved me until they snatched you away History painted me a traitor But my love for you couldn't be more truer

They say feelings are fleeting. It's been over a decade yet my longing for you is unwavering.

— An

Some nights I dream of you Then I wake up My chest heavy and throbbing My eyes teary I get up Dress myself And go on living another day With the phantom of you

— An

You're a cliffhanger at the end of a bad movie that I'm left to cope with. And I did cope. I have coped. But I relive our story time and time again.

— An

Time healed the wounds you gave and left me with a scar. But I feel the phantom pain during blue seasons, and even more when someone mentions your name.

— An

You are a sad verse in a song that stings whenever I hear it. Yet I've replayed you over and over for the nth time.

— An

Today I’ve learnt that there’s a word in italian (”solare”) to describe a person who brights the room, who is warm and good and cheerful and worries about others and I think is so cute??? I love it

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Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy.

Anne Frank   (via wordsnquotes)

STRANDED

...And in your alone moments When your thoughts are clouded and far away Where you travel through memories of Could-Have-Been and Might-Have-Been There’s always going to be that one place Where you find yourself stranded

— An

Romeo & Juliet

I’ll always remember those 2 A.M.s spent lying wide awake in bed, waiting for all the lights to go out and for silence to engulf the entire household. While I think of schemes to sneak out, I would get a phone call from a lover who's waiting to see me outside my house. We’d buy time through whispered and muffled conversations. And when I was sure that everyone had fallen asleep, I'd tiptoe my way to the back door; exhilarated to know that I would soon be in the arms of my lover; who I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, but is now just a frivolous thought at 2 A.M.

— An

Who Am I To You?

I hear every crack Every strain Every pause In the tone of your voice

I feel the anxiety The double takes The dismissal In your body language

I see the slight twitch The apathy The alibis In your eyes

…and that’s all the answer I needed.

Love is when you’re spooning but you’re worried your hair is all over his face, so you shift your head to an uncomfortable position even if it means getting a stiff neck the next morning.

Kris-an 🍒

Do you know I write about you?

Kris-an 🍒

How do I make you understand That all this time You never gave me security But insecurity.

I love it when you bury and nuzzle your face against my neck and your 'stache tickles

Kris-an 🍒