soft tears rolled down your cheeks as you held the little plush of mark close to your chest. “when he died i was so sad that id never hear his voice again.” you sobbed, clutching the plushie tighter as you pictured your memories together.
“his laugh,” an ugly chuckle escaped from your memory of mark. “his funny little requests,” your brain flashed a quick image of mark leaning in, growing close to your ear before he spoke, “touch me.” you sniffled and wiped your tears with your free hand, “his reprimands,” another image of mark shuffled in your mind as he demanded—“touch me harder!”
(inspo)










