one

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i just had a change of heart

his breathing is almost as low as the beat of my heart--shallow and soft, thrumming gently against my chest as i watch my fingers disappear into a web of chocolate strands, the soft curls tangling around my digits.

he looks up at me, caramel irises dripping off all the intellect caged inside his vast mind, representing clear brown scotch that has you drunk within seconds and his eyes are just so deep and exotic and . . . and boring.

and then he smiles, rosy lips selfishly ruined with smooth cracks, slightly crooked teeth making a short appearance, and although his smile is still the one that lights up a thousand suns, the freckles dotting his pink cheeks are the same ones i have spent hours comparing to constellations and his dimples represent the blackholes where i have dissolved myself wholely and completely . . . the galaxy that i was once lost in just seems too small, too familiar now.

"is everything okay?" his voice is accented with a certain poshness, unrealistically soft against my ear drums but so deep, so comforting, so demanding at the same time. his mouth forms words that drip down my flesh like honey . . . but i'm so sick of all this sweetness.

"i guess," i reply vaguely and his expression melts into one of utter confusion, his arms tightening their grip around my waist, his head nudging further against my chest and i sigh, my eyes travelling to the sour cream ceiling that is so horribly bland and so horribly similar to my own life.

and then his hands find mine.

they are just like they always are, fingertips decorated with calluses from god knows where, long, fleshy fingers slotting so perfectly with mine that the sight of our contrasting skin tones is almost unbelievable. blunt nails press barely against the back of my hand, his clammy palm pressed close to my cold one, and the feeling is comfortable  . . . but i don't want to be in my comfort zone anymore.

"what do you mean 'i guess'? is something bothering you?" he asks, and i shrug. he is always so pushy.

"phil," and then he leaves my embrace, warm fingertips pressing against my chest and silently asking for answers, and my eyes slide down his champagne skin and fix on his strawberry lips just to find an easy distraction.

and then i kiss him.

my hands cup around his left cheek and his fingers wind so beautifully tight around the collar of my shirt as his desperation pulls me closer.

i climb of top of him, my tongue running over the soft cracked valleys in his lips like a cool undisturbed lake, and the feverish moan that leaves his mouth is like hot lava, completely evaporating my entire being and making me simmer with a heat that only he brings around . . . but i'm so burned out it almost hurts.

"i can't do this," i murmur against his lips and he hums out of confusion, but i'm too much of a coward to actually let him answer so i slide my tongue in his painfully familiar mouth, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head before he can make an attempt to push me off.

"what do you mea--fuck," his eyes roll back into his head and his hips arch off our mattress just like they always do when i suck the sweet skin of his neck between my teeth, covering the shimmering gold of his skin with splotches of wild blue orchids that he loves so much.

"i'm sorry," is my only reply, and amidst his breathy moans and my ragged breathing, there is somewhere a screaming silence that deafens me, the silence that demands answers more that it ever has.

"phil, we need to talk--god please don't stop," cohrency is the last thing on dan's mind whenever he's this lost in the pleasure of me touching him, and i kiss his mouth again, my palm pressing teasingly against the front of his thin cotton shorts.

"i have to talk to you about something," god i'm so fucking pathetic.

"about?" he breathes, and i nibble on his lower lip gently, enough to make him bothered to the point where he softly grinds against my thigh, his hips pressing flush against mine.

"us? my job? my feelings? our fans? i don't know, quite a lot of things," i answer vaguely, and he knits his eyebrows together in frustration, his questionable gaze too much to handle for my confused mind so i just grind my hips against his harshly, a low moan bubbling out of his sinful mouth.

"god that can wait," and with that he rolls us over, and i postpone the chaos in my heart for another while.

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eeek do you guys like it or atleast feel like reading it more ?? im so insecure wowow but i really like this idea so i really hope you do too

thank you for reading !

a change of heart // phanWhere stories live. Discover now