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rooftop .

omg this one is so fucking cute. send in requests here if you have some :)

Shawn wipes sweat off his brow and heavily exhales as he leans against the kitchen counter. A sea of unpacked, half-packed, and untouched cardboard boxes are scattered across the dusty, geometric tile, and his mood plummets when he remembers how much is still left in the living room. Moving in is one of those things you can’t see the other side of– it’s an endless task, and Shawn is about to hang the towel on it.

Today’s been rough. The two of you have been hauling up boxes, unpacking them, and organizing things in your New York apartment for the past six hours, and you gave up about 30 minutes ago. You’re lying, starfished, across one of the few rugs you’d unpacked. The setting sun casts planes across your body and is orange on the stretch of skin from where your sports bra stops and to where the band of your leggings starts. You look very pretty like that, Shawn thinks, tilting his head and admiring your soft, sleepy features. You look very pretty but you also look a bit uncomfortable lying on the floor.

“Hey baby,” he whispers, crouching down beside you and brushing stray hairs out of your face. You stir and turn away from him. “No, no,” he laughs, “don’t do that. We’ve gotta figure out where we’re sleeping tonight.”

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This morning I woke up next to someone else. I rolled over, half blind without my glasses and thought it was you for a second. For a moment I felt at home, the thought of being next to you was a comforting thought. I remember how not even a week ago I awoke next to you, greeted with sloppy morning kisses. But his snoring awoke me from my day dream of you. His choppy brown strangled his face as he tossed and turned, awaking me from my not so deep slumber. His hands grazed my side and pulled me closer to his warm body. As I lay there entangled in him, he raised a hand to move my shoulders next to his own. His stubby knuckles looked like yours, images of waking up next to you rushed through my head. His facial hair was the same as yours, his forearms looked like yours, every one of his details that were illuminated by the soft morning light reminded me of you. I needed to breathe and escape his grasp and any thoughts I had of you. How pathetic it was that I was thinking of you while next to someone else. Will I be forever plagued with memories of you wherever I go?
—  Excerpt from a book I will never write // You Were Never Mine // February 19th, 2017.