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In the nineteen times it’s happened in my head, my first time on top of you didn’t look like this.
Ophelia feels like finding another human after months in the desert. A light permeating the thick black cloud. When my wayward mind wanders, it staggers back home to her.
“I’ve built my walls too high.” “They’re worth the climb.” “They aren’t.” We stop on the mansion steps, his tone soft. “They are. For me, they are.”
“You make me finally understand what people mean when they say life isn’t long enough.”
“I’ve never been fine.” Not until her.
