I spent my life folded between the pages of books.
In the absence of human relationships I formed bonds with paper characters. I lived love and loss through stories threaded in history; I experienced adolescence by association. My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together. I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction.
YA MEME → 4/8 otps: PenrynxRaffe - Penryn & the End of Days; Susan Ee I place my hand on his cheek. It’s warm and pleasant. Maybe too pleasant. When his eyes don’t open, I tentatively touch my lips to his. At first, I get no response and I consider backing off. Then, his kiss turns hungry. It is not the gentle kiss of a couple on a first date, nor is it the kiss of a man driven by simple lust. He kisses me with the desperation of a dying man who believes the magic of eternal life is in this kiss. The ferocity of his grip around my waist and shoulders, the grinding pressure of his lips has me off balance so that my thoughts whirl out of control. The pressure eases, and the kiss turns sensual. A tingling warmth shoots from the silken touch of his lips and tongue straight to my core. My body melts into his and I’m hyper aware of the hard muscles of his chest against my breasts, the warm grip of his hands around my waist and shoulders, the wet sliding of his mouth on mine. Then it’s over. [..] “You should know,” he says. His whisper is low enough that even angels probably couldn’t hear it beyond the background noise of conversations in the corridor. “I don’t even like you.”