You send them dirty sexts throughout the day, but you never follow through on the NSFW things you claimed you were going to do.
It’s in her nature to assume that you, and any other man she meets, is going to ghost on her or use her for sex or hurt her in some other way.
My sarcasm is my defense. It’s my way of locking you out of my life. Of making sure you don’t learn too much about me. I’m afraid of answering your questions honestly, of having legitimate conversations with you, because it would deepen our connection. It would make me like you more than I already do, and that’s not something I’m ready for.
Someone that she’s not afraid of annoying by double texting.
Instead of filling his room with CDs or Rangers merch or posters of naked girls, he had shadowboxes stuffed with dead moths swinging from his walls, their wings pinned down with tacks.
You go down on him, because you love the way he curses under his breath and clenches his fist when your tongue runs over the right spot. Giving him an orgasm isn’t a chore or some type of power play. You genuinly enjoy getting him off.
Date the guy your stomach drops over when you hear a text and realize it wasn’t from him.
Talk to you from morning until night, instead of magically appearing once the sun goes down.
Red Dragon by Thomas Harris. First I was scared seeing the killer’s actions, then I was scared of myself as I started to sympathize with him.
“I tried to shoot myself. Well, the bullet turned out to be a dud and that ended that. Few days later, I go to the range and fire that exact bullet and it fires off.”