I breathed him in, closing my mouth tight and inhaling the scent of him through my nose. I felt sheltered by him. Safe.

I try to be rational and suppress the hope that this is for real, but hope has a way of closing its eyes to reason and it just keeps growing.

As for being somewhere you're not supposed to be - maybe you're here for a reason, or there is no reason.

I want to see your tattoos." "You do, huh?

I watched him pull his t-shirt over his head. I could put hin on replay doing that and watch it all day.

Growing up with my dad taught me to either lie like a pro or not bother.

But the scars are always there, waiting for something to poke them.