"I think we had something." She said, "It wasn’t love, but it wasn’t nothing either. "And perhaps it was just stolen glances in long corridors, and laughing a little too much at each other’s ridiculous jokes." “Perhaps it was just feeling giddy at touching knees and pausing before breathing their name. "And I know that it wasn’t love," she said, "but it could have been. I’m sure at another time, in another place, it could have been."
Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #101 - “Sometimes I’d look at him and sometimes he’d look at me. Neither of us would ever say anything, but anyone could tell that we wanted to.” (via blossomfully)


















