I’m not the girl your mother warns you about. I won’t kiss your best friend or break your heart. I won’t make you choose between what you love to do & me. I’m not cold. I’m not reckless. I will love you more than anything. I will kiss you when you cry. I will stand by your side until you decide otherwise.
I think once you’ve thought about how a person sleeps, how they’d feel pressed up against your back, or your head on their chest, how compatible your bodies would be in the same space of a bed — once you’ve thought about that, you’re fucked.
I need to kiss you so badly. One of those kisses where I’m pressing against you as much as possible and my hands are in your hair and moving down your back, clutching to you in any way I can, kissing you as deeply as possible and thinking you’re mine, mine mine.