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@yx-gz

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blossomfully
There she was, at 4am, in your bed. You loved her then, didn’t you? She was wearing your duvet like a cape, with her head poking out. She loved you back; she really did. You said, “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never met anyone like you.” She said simply, “kiss me.” So you did. You lifted her chin and kissed her mouth and swallowed her giggles whole. You felt her sunshine fill your lungs as she wrapped her arms around your neck. You felt the duvet fall as she leant forward. “Tell me a secret,” she said. She was always saying these things. “I’ve told you everything already,“ you said. Your lips were on her neck. “Tell me a secret,” she repeated. “Okay,” you sighed, “I love you.” “Tell me a secret.“ “I’ve always loved you.”

S. Zhao (via blossomfully)

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sweet-straight-cock
INT: “Niall said you could do a spot on impersonation of him” Louis: “You know what? That’s music to my ears.”
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blossomfully
And there she’ll be, all skin and skin and more skin. And you’ll trace the curve of her spine with the curves of your finger and you’ll whisper that she is the most beautiful girl in the universe.  But you won’t know her favourite colour, or that her greatest fear is waking up old and finding that she hasn’t maintained a single meaningful relationship. You won’t care that there are nights when she cannot sleep because she is so afraid of failure and disappointment and wasting her life. And you won’t hear her call you a liar when you say that you love her, because she knows that if you loved her you would hold her properly instead of turning your back, and that you would ask her questions instead of putting your fingers in her mouth. You won’t care that she looks beautiful in the morning; you won’t care that she wants to save the world. To you, her dreams won’t mean anything. And I hope, one day, she will finally realise that she deserves better.

Sue Zhao  (via blossomfully)

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blossomfully
Wait until they break your heart. Wait to see how they justify it. You’ll see what kind of person they are then.

S.Z. // Vodka thoughts #28 (via blossomfully)

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blossomfully
Call me at 4am. Wake me up. I don’t care, I just want to hear your voice. Tell me about the bad dream you had, tell me why you can’t fall asleep. Tell me why you prefer to talk at night, or why the words only come spilling from your mouth when you think no one is listening. I am here. I will listen to you when your shoulders feel heavy; I will hear your words when you feel so crushingly small. I will sit with you in silence when you are slumped against your pillow. I know your sadness is not beautiful, I know it is overwhelming and destructive and ugly. I know you feel powerless and redundant. So call me at 4am. I prefer you over sleep any day. Don’t sit there on your own. Talk to me. I love you and I care.

S. Zhao (via blossomfully)

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But what if you never got to kiss him? What if you never got to hold his hand? What if you never got to feel his arms around you, breathe in the air around him and feel his silence? How do you get over him then? What if you still have his laughter spilling out of your pockets, the sound of him saying your name ringing in your ears, wishing that he’d grab your arm when you were walking away, knowing that he never would? How do you get over someone who you never had? How do you forget things that never happened? Do you ever stop loving someone who never knew how you felt? Do you ever learn to forgive yourself for not telling them?

Questions // Sue Zhao (via blossomfully)

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I hope one day someone looks at you like they’ve been waiting a long time to feel as happy as they do now. I hope they tell you cute things like how they found this cosy Italian restaurant around the corner and kiss your nose before spinning you around in the street. I hope when you ask them to go for a walk in the middle of the night they don’t complain that it’s too cold and even though you can see the condensation of your breath in the midnight air I hope you feel warm. I hope old ladies smile knowingly when you walk by, hand in hand, along the pavement and I hope you are smiling too. When he whispers how much he loves you I hope you feel your heart beating so fast you’re scared you’ll never recover. I hope he stays and makes you feel important, like he wants every part of this and isn’t afraid to admit it. I hope he finds words that touch you where his fingers cannot and knows how to pull your hair when you’re feeling electric but hold your soul when you’re fragile like glass. And I hope you find someone who asks before they kiss you, not because they need permission but because they want to see your knees buckle and your lips part ways. I hope their hands feel right around your waist when you reply ‘yes’ and again ‘yes’, until you’re falling apart in his arms whispering ‘yes, yes, yes’ and I hope you never need to ask if he’s the one because the answer will be staring you in the face.

S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #71 “I’m scared I’ll never feel love like the kind you write about” (via blossomfully)

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“Will I ever be happy?” she asked the silence. Something in the silence replied, “that’s up to you. Will you let yourself?”

Sue Zhao (via blossomfully)