oui-shutup:

cuba-blue:

realhumanbaby:

Someone’s probably in love with you right now, even though you think you’re boring and stupid and smell bad most of the time, someone probably saw you last week and wiped their sweaty hands on the insides of their pockets and thought about your body under your clothing and about how you would look asleep in their bed

Waay too much false sense of hope in one sentence

Nah

I wasn’t really sure if I should kiss her or not, but they way she was talking to me kind of paralyzed my body, deafened me. I couldn’t hear anything. I only saw how her lips were moving; her tongue gliding in her mouth, touching her teeth. Her lips were were dry and I saw the wrinkles. I started to count them until I was actually lost. I dont know what power forced my hand, but something did, and I suddenly grabbed her neck, my fingers clinging onto her hair. I laid my other hand softly on her cheekbone, and I looked into her eyes. I didn’t wait, but the seconds before my lips reached hers, I read her eyes. We both knew what was happening, we both wanted it. Maybe we were both so desperately in love that it felt so long, but after our lips touched, and after she followed my tongue, we both knew it was right. I felt her breath; how it went all the way into my mouth and into my lungs. Her hands were shaking and she touched my stomach, then slowly wandered up my chest. I pulled her closer to me. That’s when she started pushing her nails into my back. She wasn’t pulling hard, it maybe hurt for a second, but it was a good pain … knowing that she was close to me. She was on me, and it felt so good. I pulled her up, her legs around me. Her hands were on my jawline and her nails, again, almost in my skin. She left scrapes everywhere, but i liked it. It was like a memory for afterwards, so I know it happened, so I’d have her still on me. We only had this one second before we started kissing; this eye contact. When they were both closed, it felt better. Our bodies spoke a better language than we ever could. I carried her to bed because we both knew it was what we always craved at night. She was laying in my bed, on the white sheets. She wore this cute underwear, the underwear you wear when you dont plan to have sex, but she looked flawless … better than in any other lace undies.

Can you hate someone for what they have done, but still love them for whom they had been?