If you need urgent support, call 999 or go to your nearest A&E. To contact our Crisis Messenger (open 24/7) text THEMIX to 85258.
Read the community guidelines before posting ✨
Options
Paperback Romance
Former Member
Posts: 1,876,323 The Mix Honorary Guru
Em...here is something that I wrote once. It's short, so there's no reason not read! 
Paperback Romance
Every perfection and flaw was exposed to me then, even the mole on the small of his back that he hated so much. I loved that he was so skinny, so that I could feel every rib and hold every sinew of his body. I could feel his breath quickening in my ear. Soft, whimpering desperation. And that was it. That was the culmination and the climax of our summer romance.
Instinctively, he rolled over and reached for his Marlboro Lights on the bedside table while I reached for my pants, pulling them up over warm thighs. He tapped the cigarette on the back of the packet before lighting it with a match, skilfully shaking out the light. His lips turned into the perfect pout as he puffed, small streaks of smoke reaching out into the sunlight. There he was: my American dream. He was everything I had ever dreamt of and more. A Californian musician, dark hair and eyes that were complemented with the gentle tan of the Southern sun. A joker, but sensitive and serious. Intense. I was his fantasy too; the petite Scottish girl with her Irish complexion. Brunette and all blue eyes, pale skin that struggled with the heat. We pretended to ourselves that it meant that it was fate that we should meet, when really we were just two lost souls looking for an anchor.
"I'll miss you," he said. His eyes sought me out as dust particles whirled around our heads in the fading sunlight. I turned to him then, putting the sparkle that he knew and fell for back into my eyes and on my sad lips.
"I'll miss you too." And we did. We missed each other like any person would miss something they enjoyed, would miss something they found exotic, would miss a good holiday. I was part of his summer, and he was part of mine. In all the heat and sunlight we liked to pretend that it meant so much more; we liked to pretend that summer extended into life.
When he reached for my hand, our palms came together; an electrifying sensation but clammy and damp. My heart swelled in my chest and I was glad that I was too choked to speak. His cigarette rested in the ashtray; the smoke and the smell drifted through the silence. He parted his lips as if to speak, as if to say the foolish words that I couldn?t say. Three words remained unspoken. Let?s not pretend.
Paperback Romance
Every perfection and flaw was exposed to me then, even the mole on the small of his back that he hated so much. I loved that he was so skinny, so that I could feel every rib and hold every sinew of his body. I could feel his breath quickening in my ear. Soft, whimpering desperation. And that was it. That was the culmination and the climax of our summer romance.
Instinctively, he rolled over and reached for his Marlboro Lights on the bedside table while I reached for my pants, pulling them up over warm thighs. He tapped the cigarette on the back of the packet before lighting it with a match, skilfully shaking out the light. His lips turned into the perfect pout as he puffed, small streaks of smoke reaching out into the sunlight. There he was: my American dream. He was everything I had ever dreamt of and more. A Californian musician, dark hair and eyes that were complemented with the gentle tan of the Southern sun. A joker, but sensitive and serious. Intense. I was his fantasy too; the petite Scottish girl with her Irish complexion. Brunette and all blue eyes, pale skin that struggled with the heat. We pretended to ourselves that it meant that it was fate that we should meet, when really we were just two lost souls looking for an anchor.
"I'll miss you," he said. His eyes sought me out as dust particles whirled around our heads in the fading sunlight. I turned to him then, putting the sparkle that he knew and fell for back into my eyes and on my sad lips.
"I'll miss you too." And we did. We missed each other like any person would miss something they enjoyed, would miss something they found exotic, would miss a good holiday. I was part of his summer, and he was part of mine. In all the heat and sunlight we liked to pretend that it meant so much more; we liked to pretend that summer extended into life.
When he reached for my hand, our palms came together; an electrifying sensation but clammy and damp. My heart swelled in my chest and I was glad that I was too choked to speak. His cigarette rested in the ashtray; the smoke and the smell drifted through the silence. He parted his lips as if to speak, as if to say the foolish words that I couldn?t say. Three words remained unspoken. Let?s not pretend.
0
Comments
It was actually written from a dream I had =]