She’s sleeping when I get back, curled up into a little ball. I take a photo of her, suspending the lens directly over her where she lies, tucked into the fetal position, and I know innately that it will be my favorite photo of all time; it could come out blurry as hell and super under exposed and I’ll never take a better one. I turn on the TV and load up Call of Duty; I connect the sound to my headphones, so the rattle of gunfire won’t wake Chase, but then I sit on the sofa underneath the window with the headphones hanging around my neck, just…watching her.
Bruhhh stop cuz im actually crying cuz i want him sooo bad
