w a r m

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he was a hurricane. crashing waves and pure destruction leaving only a trail of pain with each touch of his fingers tracing over the bones poking ever so slightly from under his skin.

his hands were warm.
god they were always so fucking warm.
warm enough to set him on fire.
warm enough to relax every bit of his aching soul.
warm and comforting and always there

he was warm.

honey baby || l.sHistorias para obsesionarse. Descúbrelo ahora