Pensive [Pansy Parkinson] ✔️

ii. morning after

FLASHBACK

ii. the morning after

The dungeon was quiet that night.
Though everyone was out cold,
I couldn't sleep a wink.

"You did it again."
Said the voice in my head.
You succumbed to him. Again.
You were the frail, little flower
And he, the wind.
He blew and all you do
is let him blow you away.

Tired eyelids lifted,
a lazy tug on the corner of his mouth
He leans forward
for a kiss.

Was it sincere? Out of need?
Laden with guilt?
I will never know.

But his lips were cold yet they were soft,
So, I savour them like a favorite dessert.
His hair, messy from the way
my fingers weaved through them,
unconsciously.
He pulled me close,
his forehead resting on mine
and I sigh in contentment.

I wish tonight never ends.

I can feel his breath on my face,
and I think of how easily
he takes mine away.
I think of the way his heart beats
against my bare chest.
I think of the fingers he use
to trace the freckles on my shoulder
I think of his voice,
the sweet nothings he would whisper to me
I think of when the sun comes up,
how he would eventually get dress
and walk out of my room
like tonight never even happened.

I think of a lot of things
when I'm laying in bed with him.
When everything is done
and we aren't kissing or touching anymore.
It's quite funny,
Because the moment he looks at me,
my mind shuts down
and I couldn't think at all.
When he touch me,
kiss me like he means it
My body goes haywire.

I could be so numb, stoic,
reject every single effect he has on me
I could be...
yet I choose not to be.

Because while I'm convinced
he will be the death of me,
I'm just a little more sure
he's the savior to all my catastrophe.