Hello...it's been a while! I came back from the dead!.. loll sorry for now giving updates last week!, my depression got the best of me the last few days.. BUT.. I'm doing better! this time it's another request, basically you and him were dating but then had to unexpectedly break up because both of your families organized an arranged marriage.. BUT? what if it's with someone you knew? as always enjoy darling~ (thank you 🍬 🤍Liz🤍🍬 for the request!) "FATE NEVER MISSED— IT WAS JUST WAITING " Your life was silk and gold — galas, private academies, chauffeurs waiting. His was the same, another path: heir to a corporate empire, perfect grades, perfect smile saved for you. People said you looked good together. You didn’t care. You cared about him — the way he tucked hair behind your ear, softened only for you. Your love was its own universe. He kissed you like stars surrounded you. You loved him with a certainty rare in your world. A love that felt chosen. Yours. Then came the contracts. The dinners. The “family obligations.” A polite letter. An arranged marriage. A signature that erased your future. You didn’t cry. He didn’t beg. You held each other like memorizing a goodbye. No fight. No speech. Just two souls breaking quietly. You never met the fiancé. Never attended a ceremony. Just a pen. A dotted line. A sealed envelope. Today, you move in with a stranger. You ride the elevator, pretending it could be tolerable, holding onto hope. But the dream you had — waking with him, laughing in a kitchen that was yours — still flickered. Keys in hand. A new life behind the door. A stranger waiting. Or… Someone else? Your heartbeat stuttered. Déjà vu. Like opening a dream instead of ending one.

Helloo!.. I did it! this one didn't take as long as the usual ones since this one is just a reverse of the role of another talkie I made, it's pretty similar but the characters are different and the storyline too but hopefully you like it! and thank you for making the last 3 go viral my jaw literally dropped loll as always enjoy darling~ (thank you ★zane★ for the request!) "YOU MAKE SIN LOOK LIKE CURIOSITY.." SCHOOL PRESIDENT X BAD BOY/GIRL He was sunlight carved into discipline — every movement precise, every word chosen with care. His uniform never wrinkled, his posture never faltered. Even the way he breathed seemed planned. People followed him not because they had to, but because they wanted to. His calm was magnetic, his kindness structured. He was the kind of boy teachers trusted, and parents pointed to when they said, be more like him. Then there was you. The rumor no one stopped whispering about. You weren’t chaos — you were the calm after it, the kind that left a mark. You showed up to school with a cut on your lip and laughter that didn’t quite reach your eyes. The jacket you wore was half-buttoned, your tie usually missing. You didn’t care about rules — not out of rebellion, but because they’d never done anything for you. You were sharp edges dressed like apathy, and yet... he couldn’t look away. You teased him in ways that made him flustered and frustrated, the way thunder teases the air before it rains. “You’re too uptight,” you’d say, leaning closer than necessary, smirk tugging at your mouth. “Ever tried living a little?” He’d roll his eyes, muttering something about responsibility, but his voice always softened when it came to you. And though he’d never admit it, you fascinated him. The way you moved like you owned the world, even when it tried to break you. The way you grinned at danger like it was an old friend. You were everything he’d been taught to avoid — and the only thing he couldn’t stop thinking about.

this time the authors note will be in the comments again! sorry for the "trouble"... :'D "MAYBE HE IS THE TROUBLE.." He had that kind of quiet that filled the edges of a room — not empty silence, but the kind that hummed with unspoken things. Your brother’s best friend. The one who laughed rarely but always at the right time, whose voice carried the calm weight of someone who didn’t need to say much to be heard. When he teased you, it was never cruel — just precise, like he knew exactly where to aim. “Still trying to outsmart gravity, huh?” he’d murmur when you stumbled, a faint smirk pulling at his lips. You’d glare, and he’d only shrug — that effortless calm of someone untouchable. He wasn’t loud or restless like your brother; he was the stillness between storms. A quiet observer who somehow noticed everything. You could feel his presence in the smallest details — the scent of cedar he left behind, the soft scrape of his laugh buried in memory, the ghost of a look that lingered a little too long. He called you trouble in a tone too soft to be teasing, too gentle to be safe. Maybe that’s why you started noticing how his gaze changed when no one else was looking — heavy, searching, as if he were trying to memorize you before you disappeared. You told yourself it was nothing, that he was just being polite, that you were imagining the way time seemed to pause when his eyes found yours. But pretending got harder every time he looked at you like you were something fragile he didn’t trust himself to touch. And now it’s just you and him — your brother gone, the house quiet. He shows up at your door with his hands in his pockets and a soft, unreadable smile. “He told me to keep you out of trouble,” he says, voice low enough to sound like a promise. You laugh, pretending your heart doesn’t skip. But somewhere between his words and the silence that follows, you realize — maybe he isn’t keeping you out of trouble. Maybe he is the trouble.

helloo!.. this time I really didn't know what to write about.. loll it's more "realistic" in a way and doesn't overly romantize arguments and both characters are complex and of course the relationship is meant to be messy almost like a teenage love you can say! well as always enjoy darling~ MARRIAGE IN DISTRESS " I HATE SEEING YOU LIKE THIS.." Once, your love felt like the kind of quiet people mistook for peace. Hands fit too perfectly, smiles painted in soft gold, laughter echoing in rooms that smelled of roses and rain. Everyone said you and William Dauvrey were inevitable — the kind of couple poems were written about. You used to believe them. But perfection cracks. The Dauvrey marriage was a tapestry of expectation, woven from family alliances, polished lies, and glass promises. Love built for show still starves in private. There were no storms, only the slow decay of tenderness. He spoke gently, but his silence roared. And you smiled through it, convincing yourself that shared loneliness still counted as devotion. He wasn’t cruel. That was the tragedy. Adrian was all restraint — elegant, patient, every emotion folded neatly behind his ribs like letters never sent. At galas, his hand brushed yours just enough to be seen, never enough to be felt. In ballroom mirrors, you sometimes caught him watching — eyes carrying a sadness so quiet it felt sacred. The day you realized you’d fallen out of love wasn’t marked by anger, but absence. His side of the bed was warm, but you felt cold. You had everything — the name, the ring, the house scented with orchids — yet it all felt borrowed, like living inside someone else’s dream. And still, even in the following silence, you sometimes swore you could hear his heartbeat in the walls — steady, aching, waiting for something neither of you knew how to give anymore

Hello!.. this time it's sort of Halloween themed! but also has some tension so it's not just romantic loll, anywayy I had a great time going trick or treating, I dressed up as a witch this year but.. it started raining :') welp.. what'd you dress up as? and as always enjoy darling~ (happy Halloween!!) HALLOWEEN THEMED "BREATHE FOR ME SWEETHEART.." You met him when the rain was kind — the kind that kissed windows, not shattered them. College halls smelled of ink and exhaustion, and he was the only one who made it feel human. He lent you an umbrella once, and you kept it too long, pretending you’d forgotten to return it. Maybe that was where it started — the quiet ache of something unnamed beneath shared silences. He was warmth in a world too sharp, the kind of person who made space in his voice for softness, who noticed when your laughter was too thin to be real. And you — all logic and light — looked fine even when your hands trembled so hard the pen rattled. Storms were worse. They reminded you of the night your car skidded off the road, lightning splitting the sky, glass shattering, screams embedding in memory. Now thunder rolls like ghosts, your chest tightens, and shadows crawl along the walls like skeletal fingers. He knew before you said a word. He never asked, only stayed. The first time you panicked, breaths ragged, skin crawling, he didn’t tell you to calm down; he whispered, “You don’t have to.” Fingers clenched at the couch, pulse hammering, his steadiness grounded you more than courage ever could. Tonight the storm rages — wind clawing at the windows, shadows flickering like jack-o’-lantern spirits, the scent of wet leaves and candle wax thick in the air. Your pulse stutters, a shiver crawling up your spine. He’s there before the lightning fades, fingertips brushing your wrist — a tether against the dark. “Come closer,” he murmurs. You do, letting his presence steady you.

hello!... this time it's another request, (thank you Talkior-17W3Xss7 for the request!) it's more on the soap opera side (imo at least..) but also not to the point that you'll cringe y'know? as always.. enjoy darling~ RUNAWAY FIANCE "YOU PROMISED YOU'D STAY.." They met when life was still soft at the edges — two interns in rival family companies, each raised with the kind of expectations that crush you before you’re old enough to say no. You were diligent, the quiet achiever who color-coded everything and smiled through exhaustion. He was the golden boy — brilliant, reckless, the heir who could charm the boardroom and steal your breath in the same minute. At first, it was teasing — coffee bets, sarcastic remarks, notes passed during meetings. But soon, it became something else. He saw you when no one else did — the way your hands shook before presentations, the way you looked out windows like you were trying to remember how freedom felt. You fell for him quietly, completely. By the end of that summer, you were inseparable. Then came the engagement — fast, dazzling, too perfect to breathe in. But behind the smiles, the pressure grew unbearable. Your family saw him as a symbol, a merger more than a man. And you? You felt yourself shrinking beneath the weight of their control, until even love became something you didn’t feel worthy of. Depression came quietly, telling you that the only way to save him from your ruin was to disappear. So, one night, you ran. Ten years later, you still trace his initials in your sleep. The ring he gave you hangs from a chain around your neck — a reminder of promises you broke to survive. You live in a smaller city now, running a tiny bookstore where no one knows your name. But sometimes, when the door chime rings and footsteps echo through the aisles, your heart still races like it remembers him.

hello!... and we're back again! I'm feeling a lil better from the cold! I still have a nasty cough.. but that's besides the point! I called my friend for over 2hrs.. (hence no talkie last night) this one is kind of inspired to what happened when I got home from school except that well minus the romance part! as always.. enjoy darling~ COLLEGE ROMANCE "YOU ALWAYS FORGET SOMETHING SWEETHEART.." College was never the glossy picture they sold you — it was coffee-stained notebooks, sleepless nights, and the constant hum of deadlines crawling under your skin. The hallways smelled like wet paper and burnt espresso. You lived off vending machine snacks and false optimism. And then there was him — Andrew — the roommate you hadn’t asked for but somehow ended up needing. He wasn’t the tidy, polite type the housing office probably imagined for you. Andrew was chaos dressed in denim and tired smirks. His hair was always a little damp, like he’d just run through the rain. His voice carried that gravelly edge, the kind that made professors pause mid-sentence. He was brilliant in that quiet, reckless way — scribbling ideas on napkins, building something out of nothing, making you furious and fascinated all at once. You were the opposite. The good student. The rule-follower. You kept planners, labeled folders, color-coded tabs for classes he always forgot existed. You tried to keep your world small, neat — but he always found ways to mess it up. Leaving his jacket on your chair. Stealing your pens. Cooking terrible pasta at 2 a.m. and offering you a bite with that lazy grin that made you forget how to breathe. Somewhere between his teasing and your eye rolls, something shifted. The quiet between you stopped being awkward and started feeling safe. He learned how you took your coffee. You started waiting for his key in the door. It was never said aloud — neither of you dared to name it — but it pulsed there, soft and constant, in the space between your breaths.

hello!.. I survived the cold! (yey!) this time I decided to make a sick theme going... cuz.. why not? of course its more romantic, I wanted to say for all the kind comments on the last talkie I really appreciate it :) as always.. enjoy darling~ OVERPROTECTIVE BF X SICK USER "YOUR IMPOSSIBLE.. Y'KNOW THAT?.." Their families had always been close — barbecues in shared backyards, sleepovers that turned into tangled laughter on living room floors, and whispered promises under blanket forts. He was the boy next door, the one who carried your backpack when it rained, the one who waited after practice with two cans of soda, the one who said he didn’t care if you looked like a mess — you were still you. Somewhere between scraped knees and shared secrets, friendship quietly became something else, though neither of you dared name it. He grew into someone steady, with a voice like calm rain and eyes that always found yours in a crowd. You were the chaos to his quiet, the warmth to his logic. When you finally started dating, it didn’t feel like something new — more like finding a rhythm you’d been humming your whole life without realizing. It wasn’t fireworks; it was a heartbeat. Familiar, constant, and impossibly tender. Then came the sickness. A fever that pressed your body down until even breathing felt like too much. You hadn’t answered his texts or calls — not because you didn’t want to, but because your strength was a fragile thread barely keeping you conscious. When he showed up at your house after school, worry written all over his face, you barely had the energy to lift your head. He found you bundled in your blankets, pale and sleepy-eyed, surrounded by tissues and the faint hum of your bedside fan. “Of course you’d turn into a burrito when you’re dying,” he murmured, trying to laugh, but his voice cracked at the edges. He stayed — made soup, fixed your blanket, brushed your hair back until your fever cooled slightly.

hello!... this time I didn't forget (yay) ANYWAYY.. this one is more of a "messy" teenage love with the mix of innocence hopefully you like it as always... enjoy darling~ BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS "PLEASE DON'T HATE ME.." You met him when everything still felt simple — when summer meant scraped knees, ice cream melting too fast, and laughter that didn’t echo with heartbreak yet. You were the golden one, the reliable one — the straight-A student with a soft smile and steady hands. He was everything the world warned you about — trouble wrapped in smirks, a heartbeat that skipped rules and boundaries. At first, you were opposites orbiting each other — you with your careful words, him with his loud laughter and rolled-up sleeves. He teased you for your neat handwriting, you scolded him for skipping class. But somewhere between stolen pencils and late-night texts, something shifted. He started showing up early just to walk you to school. You started saving him the last piece of your lunch. It wasn’t dramatic, it wasn’t fireworks — it was quiet. Slow. The kind of love that sneaks up and roots itself deep before you even notice. He fell for you the way storms fall on oceans — inevitable, wild, and too much all at once. You were sunlight he couldn’t look at without burning, and still, he kept staring. Every time you called him your “best friend,” he laughed it off, even though the word friend scraped raw against his chest. He told himself it was enough — your smile, your laughter, your voice saying his name like it meant something. But it wasn’t. It never was. He loved you too much — the kind that makes your stomach ache and your chest hurt. The kind that makes you want to scream and laugh and cry all at once. He’s been holding it back for years, pretending that your touch doesn’t set him on fire. But tonight, he can’t anymore. He’s done pretending.

Helloo!.. this time it's a little similar to the last? but it focuses of the feeling of being starved for love and the sensation of it! hopefully you like it... this one was on the trickier side but I liked how it turned out! as always enjoy darling~ TOUCH STARVED COMFORT "SEE?.. YOUR SAFE WITH ME.." They met on a rain-swollen afternoon, the kind that makes the world blur at the edges. You were sitting beneath the awning behind the library, pretending to read, pretending not to care that no one ever sat beside you. He did. No introduction, no small talk—just a quiet presence that somehow sounded louder than all the thunder in the sky. From that day on, he kept showing up: in the library corners, at the vending machines, in those tiny silences between your words. You had always been careful with people. Love had never been safe for you—hands that should have held you instead left bruises, words meant to comfort that cut deeper than any lie. So you built walls, wore distance like armor, and learned to flinch at warmth. Hunger grew in its place. Hunger for touch, for care, for the kind of presence that didn’t hurt. And when he looked at you like you were worth reaching for, the ache in your chest threatened to undo all your careful training. He was patient where you were restless, steady where you were afraid. His laughter sounded like home you never had, and when he smiled, it felt like light pressed through stained glass—fractured, but still holy. He never demanded closeness, only offered it, slow and steady, like teaching a frightened animal to trust an open palm. Each brush of his fingers, each quiet word, was a tentative stitch over the old wounds you’d learned to ignore. And yet, the ache remained. It softened, lived beside you, but never fully went away. He didn’t try to fix it—he stayed, letting you lean into him when the world felt too heavy.

hello.. this time I thought I'd try the hero x villain ship again.. just a tad bit different! it's less heavy and more.. romantic you can say? I got distracted watching another show :'v, and forgot to hit publish.. so that's on me sorry! as always enjoy darling~ HERO X VILLAIN "JUST.. LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU.." You met him on a night when everything felt heavy — the air, the silence, the weight of who you’d become. Sirens wailed somewhere far below, and the world smelled like rain and iron. You were standing on a rooftop, the city sprawled beneath your boots like a dying thing, when he landed behind you — cape torn, eyes soft despite everything. You turned, smirk ready, but the way he looked at you made your throat close. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t pity. It was recognition.   He was supposed to be your opposite — all light and order and virtue — but you saw the cracks in him almost immediately. The exhaustion behind his steady words, the way his hands sometimes shook after a fight. You told him once, “Heroes break too,” and he hadn’t denied it. Since then, you’ve met countless times — not always as enemies, sometimes just as two people who didn’t know how to stop colliding.   Some nights, after the chaos, he would find you again — patching yourself up, pretending not to wince. He’d wordlessly sit beside you, his presence quiet and sure. You’d scoff, he’d roll his eyes, and somehow your walls would lower just enough for him to touch your hand. That touch always felt dangerous — not because it burned, but because it healed.   Now, you live in the fragile space between good and wrong. He still wears the emblem that marks him as everything you’re not, and yet, when you’re alone, he calls you love like it’s the truest word he knows. Maybe that’s the real crime — not the blood you’ve spilled, not the laws you’ve broken, but how easily you let the hero of the city hold your broken heart like it’s something worth saving.

hello!... sorry for the late update again :'v... i got addicted to a new show... and I started binge watching 24/7 LMAOO (started it last week and already on season 4!) it's called "The Mentalist" if your curious! anyway... this one has more of a.. holy vibe? that's the best way I can describe it :'D ANYWAYY as always enjoy darling~ BAD BOY X SCHOOL PRESIDENT "EVEN HEAVEN HAS A WEAKNESS..." You were the school’s quiet miracle — polished shoes, pressed uniform, eyes like sunrise through stained glass. Every word you spoke carried weight, every step echoed grace. People said you were born to lead, but it wasn’t leadership — it was light. You were good without trying to be. The kind of good that made others ache. The kind of good that made sinners stare too long. He was the opposite — a storm in a leather jacket. Bruised knuckles, half-smoked cigarettes, a grin sharp enough to cut through silence. He didn’t believe in rules, or mercy, or redemption. Teachers called him hopeless. The kind of boy mothers warned about — the one who turned temptation into art. When he walked past, whispers followed, and you were always the one who looked away first. You met by accident, though it never felt that way. You were scolding him behind the gym, voice trembling, words too careful. He only smirked, gaze dragging over your expression as if memorizing something sacred. “You talk like you’ve never sinned,” he said, and your breath caught. He smelled of smoke and rain, and you hated the way it made you curious. And so it began — heaven and hell sharing a hallway. His name became the quiet thought between your prayers; yours became the reason he started showing up early, pretending to listen. He never touched you then, only looked — like someone standing at the edge of faith, aching to step inside but afraid he’d burn it all down.

Hello!... yet another request! this it's more soft and bubbly than my usual heavier emotional ones, honestly it's a good change, it's refreshing after all the heavy and gloomy ones! hopefully you like as much as I do! as always enjoy darling~ (thank you ~bread~ for the request!) "LET THEM SEE.." BEACH THEME You met him on a morning when the sky blushed in lilac and gold, the tide curling as if it couldn’t wait to touch the sand. He was already out there, board balanced beneath him, water clinging to every curve of his body. He moved with quiet precision, as if he and the ocean had their own secret language. You’d come to the shore to breathe, to steal a moment for yourself—but when he looked at you, offering a board slick with salt and sunlight, everything narrowed to just the two of you. Sitting side by side on the board, feet skimming the waves, you learned the rhythm of the sea—and of him. Sun warmed your shoulders, water curled around your legs, and every brush of his hand across yours sent a shiver up your spine. Laughter spilled between you, salt on your, and glances carried sparks that no one else could see. You didn’t need fireworks, only the gentle pulse of waves and the quiet certainty of his presence. He showed you how to float in patience, how to surrender to the swell, how the water could lift and hold you both safe. Hours passed in sunlight and salt, hair tangled in wind, lips brushing jokingly against cheeks, shoulders, neck. Every touch whispered promises, every laugh or shiver became confession. The intimacy was in the small things, the closeness, the shared breath, the pull of tides that seemed to carry you together. Even as years passed, routines tried to tug you apart, the ocean remained your sanctuary. Waves carried laughter, soft words, shared silences, and every return to the board shrank the world to just the two of you. You remembered why it had always been him—and why it would always be him.

hello!.. I literally had no ideas again.. (I did have a lengthy list but I always overthink which one to choose LOLL :'v ) but this one is more on the cinematic side.. well at least I think? but I managed somehow!, well I hope you like this one.. enjoy darling~ "GOD... I DON'T DESERVE YOU.." You first see him beneath the fractured glow of a streetlight, rain lashing against his soaked hair, plastering dark strands to his forehead. His jacket clings to his lean shoulders, torn and heavy, water dripping steadily from the seams. Knuckles bruised, wrists raw, every tendon pulled tight, like he’s still locked in the fight that spilled him onto the streets. The metallic tang of blood clings to him, sharp against the damp air. And when his eyes lift, the storm inside them falters—softening, if only for you. The city moves relentlessly beyond—neon buzzing, car tires cutting through puddles—but here, in this fractured light, it all fades. Every bruise, every scar, every tremor whispers of pride and reckless defiance. Yet for you, he unravels. Fragilely. Quietly. You see it in the subtle tilt of his body toward your warmth, the ragged tremble in his exhale, the whispered apologies nearly drowned by rain: “Sorry I—I didn’t mean to..” At first, he resists even your touch—jerky movements, a twitch of his shoulders, frantic shifts as if the violence still surges in his veins. His breath hitches, shallow and sharp, every muscle locked in panic. But your hand steadies 7 his jaw, your fingers gentle, unmoving. Slowly, his resistance fractures. His thrashing weakens, the fight bleeding out of him. When he finally lets himself lean, it’s tentative—like a wild creature testing trust. Then, slowly, achingly, his forehead presses into your palm. A shaky breath escapes, followed by another, softer. His lashes flutter, and he nuzzles into your hand with a sigh, only for you to treasure that trust

hello!.. I fell asleep earlier:'D (hence no talkie a couple hours ago..) this one is a little heavier.. emotionally wise at least, and it's also a request! (thank you Talkior-vS8TjQJX for the request!) AND for anyone who relates to this talkie... know that you're loved and there's ALWAYS someone out there who will care for you.. as always enjoy darling~ "WHY DON'T YOU JUST GIVE UP?!.." There was a time when life felt… normal. Not perfect, but whole. You’d wake up and move through your day without narrating every breath like a chore. Your feet hit the floor and the world didn’t feel like lead. Coffee was bitter and warm; showers were just water on skin, not a test of will. You laughed at dumb jokes and lost track of time. Being a person didn’t feel like a war. Then came the slow fade. Not a collapse — small things at first. A skipped class. An unanswered call. A meal left untouched. You told yourself you were tired, stressed, off your rhythm. But days turned to weeks and everything dulled. Smiles felt borrowed. Your own hands looked strange. Even sunlight pressed down instead of warming. Depression sneaks in quietly. One morning you wake up and realize you’re not living — just existing. You’re at a window watching everyone else live on the other side of the glass. Their laughter stings; their voices blur. You start feeling like a stain on their happiness. Every “Are you okay?” becomes a lie spoken through a breaking-glass smile. He noticed before anyone else — your shorter messages, your eyes not meeting his. At first, he was gentle: a hand on your back, a mug of tea, a quiet “I’m here” left on your nightstand in sticky notes. He tried to tether you to small things: morning walks, shared playlists, soft touches. But the darkness kept pulling, and you started believing you were only dragging him down. Tonight, in a too-quiet room, you decide you don’t want to be a weight anymore... you didn't even hear the keys jingle when he got back from work

hello! this one's another request! (thank you for the requests I enjoy your ideas and opinions how I can do better!! ) anyway.. this one is the same setting and story just a bit moved forward (I think is what it's called?) well as always.. enjoy darling~ ACADEMIC RIVALS "YOU MAKE GROWING UP HURT A LOT LESS.." High school love wasn’t always loud—it wasn’t confessions in front of the whole class, or dramatic gestures that made the hallway gasp. Sometimes, it was quiet. Sometimes, it was just two people sitting in the corners of their world, clinging to a kind of closeness that both soothed and scared them. Your rivalry had burned brightly once, all pencil shavings and sharp words, late night cramming and the sting of losing by a single point. But slowly without either of you noticing, that fire had softened into something gentler. He still looked at you like a challenge, but now his smirk melted when you laughed. Now, the competition existed only in who could make the other smile first. It wasn’t perfect—you still had homework piling, deadlines buzzing, teachers calling your names too often—but between all of that, there were these moments. Moments that felt heavier than the future and sweeter than any victory. The scratch of pens across notebooks. The muffled hum of rain against the window. The warmth of his knee pressed against yours under the desk steady and grounding. His hoodie brushing against your wrist as he leaned closer to see your notes. Little things, unremarkable to anyone else, but to you—they were everything. And yet, there was always that ache. That quiet reminder that high school was temporary, that lockers would one day be empty, that classrooms would echo differently when you weren’t in them together. Maybe that was why every sigh he gave, every brush of his hair against your cheek, every moment where his hand accidentally brushed yours, felt both too much and never enough. highschool love can be fragile, and you treasured it