volxtyle.

imaginativefacade:

☢█Ｔ．Ｄ．— What a pleasurable feeling.

                                                                     The feeling of excitement.

     Maybe a hint of lust.

                                                       Just a ʰᶤᶰᵗ.

              Contusioned palms rested around her delicate frame. 

            _{—-And perhaps the day dreamer in her had fallen in a trance. Perhaps the intoxicating smell of him had take over her senses, clouded her judgment. Or perhaps it was passion.                                                                                                Passion.
            —-It must have been what led her to cling to his shirt like a life raft in the cold depths of the Arctic sea. Or maybe it was what led her to hum softly in a sort of quiet acceptance. Why did it have to be anything?
                                                    Maybe—-
                                                                         It was just him
                                                                                 & h e r}