Novel & Cerita Its Like A Polaroid Love

Because of his sick words. He leaned closer. Brushing the tip of his nose against hers, he breathed her subsiding breaths which were tickling the skin of his philtrum and lips. “The destination where I’ll show you my love,” he closed his eyes as his palm received the light weight of her face. He smiled unwell, mumbling, “where there’s no limit of insanity, tesorino.” (Little treasure)

Tom, I wish you happiness. Tom felt like his heart had been pierced with a huge hole, and cold wind was rushing in. He flipped through every photo, looking at what was written on the back. [Tom, you look so handsome when you play basketball!] [Tom, I'm already 18, I'm an adult now, I want to choose the person I like. Do you know that I like you?] [Tom, I've taken another candid shot of you, you're really scary when you're angry, but you never get angry with me, am I a bit special to you?]

The young lady stood under the lights, lifting her chin to meet my stare. "Elodie, if you're Mr. Chapman's daughter, what does that make me?" There was something so familiar about her face that it caught me off guard. Wasn't this the young lady who'd taken pictures with Dad and strongly resembled him? How could she be so certain and bold as to challenge me in front of the whole school? My gaze snagged on the collar of the shirt peeking out under her uniform. It was a pale pink shirt with a small tangerine embroidered on the collar.

Another leaning on the balcony, showing off the beautiful city lights behind me. But I didn’t stop there. I recorded a small video walking through the room. My voice is soft and sweet. “Look what Sean did… he’s always full of surprises. He says nothing, but his love is loud.” I added soft romantic music in the background and a few slow-motion clips. Then I posted everything on my I*******m. Caption: “He did it again #surprised #mylove #perfectnight #coldbosswarmesheart” I watched the likes roll in within seconds.

“Win-” “Ah...hah just one date and We can pretend that it never happen if you think that you won't be able to like me. I know we had lots of sex and acting clingy is never part of it but...I just love you” My speech ended with a lone tear eascaping my eyes because let's be honest, I’m so scare of getting rejected after pouring my heart out.

“Okay, then explain it to me again, because from what I remember you telling me about it, it’s just about how like love is like a sticky note.” “Close,” I begin explaining, “he said that love can be written on crumpled stationery, written on sticky notes wedged between the pages of a book or stuck on a fridge door, or baked into the edges of a chiffon cake. The point is that love takes different forms but the common thing about is that people like talking about it. Kind of like how we always end up interacting with it in some way, and we are all obsessed with it on some sort of level.”

And it meant everything. She tucked one foot beneath her, the familiar fabric grounding her as she glanced down at the book again. The margin notes. The faint crease on the cover. The ghost of someone else’s love for it, layered now with her own. “I haven’t felt like myself in a long time,” she admitted, surprised by how easily the words came. How ready they were. “Like I’ve been… dimmed. Muted. But this..” Her fingers pressed against the cover. “This makes me feel like pieces of her are coming back.”

“It’s what we do when headlines try to tell other people’s stories.” She left with a blessing that smelled like lemon oil and thrift-store sage. We locked the door behind her and leaned into each other like two people repairing from the inside out. Before sleep took me, Marcus pulled the polaroid from his pocket ,the one he’d folded and left for me weeks ago and slid it into my hand. “For the days we need proof,” he said, the words deliberate and soft. I pressed the paper to my chest like a relic. The photograph was ridiculous a snapshot of two people who’d been ten kinds of foolish and had chosen, repeatedly, to love anyway.

She couldn't focus on anything other than how her body reacted. “You’ll never find someone who understands you the way I do. Who loves you the way I do.” His words echoed in her head. That’s true, though. He knows her body chemistry more than she does herself. Kiara began to picture the kiss again, and gradually the feeling became a deeper, duller crimson, while her as yet unrelieved arousal rendered her hidden flower benumbed but still swollen.

I came back to my room and sat on my bed . I took my mobile and scrolled some messages in wechat . Then I opened music library and played one of my favorite song.It was my favorite because it gives me the memories of my buried love.I closed my eyes and listened to those heartbreaking lyrics ....... "Feeling used but I'm still missing you And I can't see the end of this Just wanna feel your kiss against my lips And now all this time is passing by But I still can't seem to tell you why It hurts me every time I see you