wild spirit, soft heart, sweet soul @welten-wellen - Tumblr Blog

are you seriously gonna let anyone else beat you? i’m surprised you can stand to lose to anyone else.

prove how much better you are. prove it with your hard work. sail through exams and assignments like it’s gentle water, all because you put in the effort

golden-letters

bitch this is all you’re gonna get. this life, this face, this body. you better not ‘maybe in another universe’ your way out of everything. sit your ass down and face this. go make tea and have a picnic and read a goddamn book. kiss your loved ones, send that damn text, and hug your siblings. this is all you’re gonna get.

tojisteddy

Suguru, who’s notorious for breaking up with people, stays when you’re not in the mood.

He goes through relationships like quick as lightning. He’ll be with one girl and then the next time Shiu will see him a week later it’s a different girl.

He’ll break up over something mundane, ‘they ate weird’ or ‘she didn’t like museums’, ‘too prissy’ or ‘they were too clingy’

But then there was you. Who didn’t ask for much of his time, always happy to see him, always ready to eat even if it’s a snack, dont blow up his phone asking where he is but will send a random meme out of the blue, have that ‘you’re fuckin annoying’ delectable look when he does some bullshit you’re quick to call out that he just adores— wait this different. Very different.

But he ignored it at first. Ignored the nights he was itching to get off to run back home back to you. To hear that giggle as you both drank and talked about your childhood or work stories or the music you loved. Tonight was the same, getting lost in each others eyes till you were molding your lips together, slow. Your hand in between his jet black locks, his hands on your hips pulling you you closer, closer—

You gently pulled away, rapidly blinking, “Sorry,” you pant, “I don’t think I can today.”

Oh.

Well that’s different.

There was an awkward pause, a look in your eyes he can’t read before you get off the couch. Grabbing your phone from the coffee table, your bag that you slung over the arm chair not to far away.

“Where you going?” Suguru asks, as if he doesn’t know the routine. As if this predicament was new for him. Has he kicked a fair share amount of people out of his place for not wanting to fuck? It’s almost habitual. But this makes his stomach drop, the thought of you leaving right now.

“Home, it’s okay. Really,” you breathe out a laugh, “I’m used to it.” You shrug, sliding on your jacket. You were just another person in his orbit, which you were okay with.

You’ve never been first pick, not third either. Just- you’re just you. Coming in last was natural for you, you didn’t mind being the toss away if it meant being a good fuck. Well, it’s how you felt till you really started hanging out with Suguru, how caring he was. How thoughtful and passionate he was about his art that left him with many late nights and early morning, on calls with you, yapping about nothing just so he could hear your voice.

You’d felt special, something better than what you’d ever hope to be— and it made your stomach turn. Both in a good and bad way.

The more your heart raced, the more you couldn’t hide the shy smile on your face— you needed a break away from him. And with that lost look on his face, you shouldn’t have come in the first place.

But there’s a single moment, it surprises the both of you, his hand catching your hand as you step into the entryway to put on your jacket. “Stay,” he blinks, mind running a mile a minute. “Just for a cup of tea. I got the lavender one you’d suggested if you’d like. We could try it- er- I could try it, but we could have it together.”

It’s the softness in his tone, the longing in his eyes that’s filled with compassion, an ache for a bit of mindless peace— to be cozy with you. How could you say no?

The awkward moments of the kettle being turned on, grabbing the tea from the pantry, turn into minutes, comfortable silence and little conversation about craving cake, the plants— anything. little glances that have your cheeks blooming heat under your skin, the jazz played and a candle lit, cuddled in the dim living room against each other, fingers brushing against each other as you grab your mugs, phones lost for hours, enjoying each other company more than you should have, as if lost into the deep hidden oasis just for the two of you.

a/n: I listened to Tea for Two by Blossom Dearie

torucider

nerdjo my beloved 😻

lone-nyctophile

To heal is to touch with love that which was previously touched with fear

- Stephen Levine

lone-nyctophile

She went into the sea because her core ached and there was no healing.

- May Sarton

lone-nyctophile

The poet is a tree with fruits of sadness and with leaves withered to mourn what he loves.

-Federico García Lorca

shakespearesdaughters

crimsolyn

I think the purest form of love is just wanting someone to notice life with you. "taste this. look at that. hear this song." again and again. until you can't imagine noticing life without them.

golden-letters

bitch this is all you’re gonna get. this life, this face, this body. you better not ‘maybe in another universe’ your way out of everything. sit your ass down and face this. go make tea and have a picnic and read a goddamn book. kiss your loved ones, send that damn text, and hug your siblings. this is all you’re gonna get.