ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕕...
TW: Mature content
"𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙞𝙚, 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙚."
♢ ♢ ♢
Lydia Grayson is a popular girl; gorgeous, caring, intelligent, humorous, and a tad bit of a badass; She knows how to party. No one knows about the challenges she faces...
Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
♢ ♢ ♢
Lydia pulled back, her sweet, innocent green eyes meeting me.
Under her puffy red eyes, her makeup smudged. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and snot lingered above her lips. I smiled at her 'She's so beautiful'
The smeared mascara under her doe-eyes was brushed away with my thumb. Her skin's so warm and tender, it feels so right under my touch
She whispered, staring down at my shirt, "I'm sorry I ruined your shirt."
I looked down at my shit; a splotch of wetness and snot had formed where her face had nuzzled into my chest.
"Meh, I was looking for an excuse to get rid of this shirt anyway," I shrugged, and she giggled, making my heart melt.
As she sniffed, the back of her hand wiped under her nose. "God I must look awful right now" she sighed, looking down at the snot on the back of her hand. "Never" I found myself replying.
Her eyes widened and she returned my stare.
...
I stood up, tightening my grasp around her waist and carried her in my arms. Her legs wrapped around my waist in an instant. 'Fuck,' I murmured, trying to ignore the fact that her core was pressing against my lower abdomen.
I placed her on the couch with care and went to the kitchen to get the tissue box.
I sat down next to Lydia on the couch and decided to pull her into my lap, which made her whimper. I took a tissue from the box and handed it to her.
"Thanks," she mumbled, her cheeks turning a darker shade of pink as she peered down. My mouth curved into an amused grin. I put two fingers under her chin and lifted it to bring us face to face.
I admitted, "You're cute when you blush," which made her flush even more.
She confessed to toying with my gold chain and said, "I'm sorry."
"What for Gorgeous?" She whispered, plainly ashamed by her actions, "making a fool of myself and breaking down."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," I stated quietly as I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. When I cupped her cheek and gently rubbed her delicate skin back and forth, she lifted her gaze. We locked eyes as she leaned into my touch. ...
Her eyes widened, and she reached out to grab my hand, which was cupping her cheek. "Oh my god," she gasped, holding my blood-stained hand and tracing her finger over my damaged and red knuckles.
"Where do you keep the first aid kit?"
"Lydia you don't have-" "Where is it?" She interrupted.
"Under the sink" She stood from my lap, walked to the kitchen, grabbed the first-aid kit, and returned.
