she likes to be kissed softly during romance movies. if you nibble down her neck and across her collar bones, she’ll melt into you. she will stop to pet every single dog, and would adopt every kitten if she could. she likes ice cream in most flavors and will eat it out of the bin if you let her - and you should let her. she likes it when you point out nice plants and give her pretty things like pebbles and grass rings. she gets sleepy somewhere around noon. she likes looking at the sky. i think she is in love with the moon.
she used to be in love with me, too.
when you kiss her forehead, tell her that her hair smells nice. tell her that the fleck in her eye is beautiful. tell her that her freckles and scars are treasure maps, tell her that her tummy is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. tell her your secrets, she’ll handle them perfectly. tell her that she’s a lighthouse, a garden full of daisies, a secret hiding place where time stops and things make sense, an ocean deep. tell her that she’s worth your whole being. tell her for me.
hold onto her the way i couldn’t. trust me, i know what i lost. give her the life she was waiting for, the one i couldn’t hand her. give her romance and fairy lights and laughter and curling up and quiet, give her art and music and wild, give her home. trust me, hold onto her.
i feel the ache of her absence as if she removed my soul.
Chad Michael Murray was actually the worst friend a person could have.
It all started on what began as a normal Friday. Jared woke up, knocked loudly on Chad’s door, took Harley and Sadie for a run, came back to shower, knocked loudly on Chad’s door again, and started breakfast. He hummed a happy tune quietly with a smile in place as he grabbed food from the refrigerator and cabinets. Eventually Chad stumbled in, more squinty-eyed than usual, and running his hands through his spiky-blond, unruly bed hair.
“Morning, Sunshine,” Jared grinned, breaking the eggs into the sizzling pan.
“Fuck you, asswipe,” Chad spat. Pulling on a chair at the breakfast bar so rough it screeched across the linoleum floor, he hauled himself up in it and glared at the back of Jared’s cheery head.
“You’re in a worse mood than usual,” Jared snorted, knowing that no matter how bad of a mood Chad was in, it was just an inherent part of his personality - nothing personal.
“Yeah, I am,” Chad groaned, nearly slamming his forehead into the counter top as he let it plop down. “I was having a great night – made out with Sophia for, like, three hours straight, ate pizza, jacked off –“
“Really, dude?” Jared interrupted.
“– listened to some music, and then fell asleep, but not before fucking remembering that your gay boyfriend was coming over today,” he finished as though Jared never spoke.
“Did you just call my boyfriend gay?” Jared asked incredulously.
“Uh, yeah. Because he is.” There was a pause.
“Yep, that is true,” came with the shake of a head. “But what’s the big deal? Jensen comes over almost every weekend.”
“I know, but, like,” Chad groaned and slammed his head back against the counter top, “when he’s over you’re all mushy and gross and I can only handle so much gay in my life, okay? And when he’s here, it’s double the gay. It’s gay multiplied. Gay squared. That’s too much gay.” Jared rolled his eyes and tossed the English muffins in the toaster.
“Why don’t you go stay with Sophia or one of your other friends?” Jared suggested.
“Sophia is having a girl’s night or something tonight, I don’t really know. She said, ‘Me and the girls want a wine and pedicure night,’ and I was like, ‘Fine, I’m gonna have a beer and video game night’ – which isn’t different than every other night, but, y’know. And I have no other friends, Jared, why else do you think I’m living with your gay ass? That and you have the best gaming system so it was kind of a no-brainer.”
“Feelin’ the love, Chad.”
“Don’t feel the love from me, your boyfriend’ll be here in a few hours.”