yellow narcissus


           He watches her closely from the doorway. He knows he only has a bit longer before she leaves. He’s not sure how long she’ll be gone this time, or if she’ll sneak back to see him for a bit. It’s been like this for years, the horrid uncertainty of her mood swings bringing her to him and away from him again. The agreement that had been made long ago was wearing thin on both sides.

Keep reading


Playing With Spring by Achim