:𝓢𝓾𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷: 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢

ᎾᏢᏢᎾᏕᎨᎿᎬᏕ ᎯᎿᎿᏒᎯᏨᎿ

Silence, it's what the goth liked. Music, it's what the wolf liked. Two opposites, nothing alike. One birght, bubbly, happy, and colorful; the other, dark, gloomy, poetic, and blunt. Oh, but the beauty the bright girl saw in the goth; something she didn't think was possible. Her beauty, one like no one else's. A beauty she felt was per se, unimaginable. A beauty in which she couldn't describe.

Oh, how the dark girl was so, mesmerizing to her. Her cold gaze-always so hypnotizing. Said once, always said again; "opposites attract." The two knew, the tension was there; it always was. Both too scared to admit it.

Opposites attract, they heard it a lot. The goth found a beauty in the wolf, one she would drown in. A beauty, like a river; quiet and peaceful, lovely and dear, a beauty to drown in; a beauty to love. A beauty to hold close, one to never lose. Oh, how she loved her; a love so sweet, a love so gental, a love in which she'd cherish forever.

A river of love, so kind and so sweet,, something to love, and something to keep. A river of trust, so hard to earn and so hard to keep. The goth wouldn't want anything different, she loves this girl; maybe more than expected.

Opposites attract. They wouldn't lie but they wouldn't speak, they knew how they felt though something to keep. Something to keep hidden away; away from eachother, away from the lies, away from the wishes and prays to be tried. Both in love with the other, nothing to hide. Wasn't it obvious, or was it all a lie?

It wasn't a lie, nobody could deny it. They loved the other, the birght loved the dark, the dark loved the bright. One happy, one not. One bubbly, one dull; both are opposites, just like eachother. Said once, said again, something said a gazillion times. Something heard over and over, opposites, attract.