train wreck ✓

sixty-eight.

we'd decided to live in the present and to invest ourselves in crazy, stupid love instead of doubting and dwelling.

after a little time on my bed where hands had roamed and lips had glided, miles decided he needed some air as did i. and as he tied a shirt around his waist and exited, i tried to distract my eyes from meeting the obvious bulge in his black jeans.

i ran a hand through my unkempt curls after my shower, hand shooting out to plug in my straightener. and as i felt warm arms wrap around me, i leaned back into miles.

"why don't you wear it curly anymore?"

this confused me, my mind remembering how i'd thought that miles had left because i wasn't appealing to him. i remembered when i thought changing my appearance would help me get over him and under someone else, "i wanted a change, you don't like it?"

he kissed the back of my head, "you're beautiful no matter what."

i smiled, my eyes meeting his in the mirror, "miles..."

he seemed a little nervous, voice a little raspy as he rested his chin on my shoulder, "it's the truth."

rolling my eyes, i felt his hands place themselves on the concave of my waist, "do you like it or not?"

"truthfully, i miss your curls."

i felt him squeeze my sides, "but, you're still fucking perfect regardless," and as he was kissing up the incline of my neck, his hands roamed downwards to cup the sides of my waist. but miles didn't stop there, his fingers dancing along the waistband of the pair of oversized calvin klein boxers i'd put on instead of pants.

my breath hitched as his hesitant eyes met mine in the mirror. his lips placed a chaste kiss on my cheek right beside my ear.

and as miles stuttered out an, "i-i think i'm ready," his bottom lip pulling into his mouth in a way that had me weak at the knees, my phone rang.

my fucking phone rang.