Phases.
William Beckett/Max Green
Even as he understood he still let me read the history books, his fingertips making their own way over my bare shoulders in an excuse to be with me, in my bed.
word count; 420
Even as he understood he still let me read the history books, his fingertips making their own way over my bare shoulders in an excuse to be with me, in my bed.
word count; 420