Fat Girl
lips threatening to collide
“Oh Monica,” he whispers, the warm breath washing over her skin leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. All the tension seeps from her being, releasing through the content sigh escaping her lips. “I can’t believe I finally found a girl like you.”
With his arms wrapped around her waist, the girl rests at ease between his legs, in his soothing embrace. His steady breathing echoes in her ear, the continuous rise and fall of his chest on her back.
She buries herself deeper in his arms, a blush spilling across her cheeks. “James, you’re so stupid.” Her words imply as if she is mocking but the tone of her voice is laced with affection.
His nose brushes the nape of her neck, traveling down to her shoulder. “Well, I guess I’m just lucky.”
His grip tightens for a moment, the small squeeze causing Monica’s heartbeat to accelerate. She could honestly die at the moment and would’ve done so happily, as long as he was with her.
Monica escapes from his hold, turning to face the boy. Slightly crooked nose with blond shaggy hair: her James. Their eyes met, blue fusing with hazel, and her breath hitches. Slowly his eyes drift to a close, the proximity between them becoming less and less.
“Monica,” he murmurs, his lips threatening to collide with her own.
“Monica!” the voice calls again, this time much less loving and roughly ripping Monica from her thoughts. She absorbs identical features to the ones that had plagued her thoughts earlier, though now adorned with confusion and a cocked eyebrow. “You got a pencil?”
Feeling her face glow red, she nods her head, handing him the one in her hand. He thanks her and turns back in his seat, leaving Monica with a torrential amount of embarrassment and shame.
Because nobody would love the fat girl. People just don't have enough to care for every single pound.
With his arms wrapped around her waist, the girl rests at ease between his legs, in his soothing embrace. His steady breathing echoes in her ear, the continuous rise and fall of his chest on her back.
She buries herself deeper in his arms, a blush spilling across her cheeks. “James, you’re so stupid.” Her words imply as if she is mocking but the tone of her voice is laced with affection.
His nose brushes the nape of her neck, traveling down to her shoulder. “Well, I guess I’m just lucky.”
His grip tightens for a moment, the small squeeze causing Monica’s heartbeat to accelerate. She could honestly die at the moment and would’ve done so happily, as long as he was with her.
Monica escapes from his hold, turning to face the boy. Slightly crooked nose with blond shaggy hair: her James. Their eyes met, blue fusing with hazel, and her breath hitches. Slowly his eyes drift to a close, the proximity between them becoming less and less.
“Monica,” he murmurs, his lips threatening to collide with her own.
“Monica!” the voice calls again, this time much less loving and roughly ripping Monica from her thoughts. She absorbs identical features to the ones that had plagued her thoughts earlier, though now adorned with confusion and a cocked eyebrow. “You got a pencil?”
Feeling her face glow red, she nods her head, handing him the one in her hand. He thanks her and turns back in his seat, leaving Monica with a torrential amount of embarrassment and shame.
Because nobody would love the fat girl. People just don't have enough to care for every single pound.
♠ ♠ ♠
... oh, hey there. Yeah, Monica's the hopeless romantic type. But P.S., this ain't some teen-y bop love story. SO DON'T ASSUME THINGS ARE GONNA HAPPEN, A'IGHT?BTW, I WANTED TO MENTION, this isn't like... story of my life. Monica is not me. I just... yeah, if you guys assumed. Monica =/= Me. yadig?
pretty sure that's it.
hiatus over? maybe.