David was the only one who could wake Shanelle up. It was a delicate procedure-- she didn't sleep much, and waking up early was not an easy matter for her. Not unless David did it.
He would run the backs of his fingernails up and down her back, slowly, gently, until her eyes fluttered open. Then he would kiss her on the forehead and say,"Morning Shanelle," in a soft voice.
She always felt ready for the rest of the day when David woke her up. But after their early morning routine, they stayed apart for the rest of the day, her in her studio and him at his book store. She tried not to think about him, because it hurt inside. She tried to focus on her art, but every once in a while she would mix a blue the exact same color as his eyes, or brush on a yellow the same as his hair. It was those times that she couldn't help but think how she loved everything about David, but didn't love him.
SPLATTERPUNK $HELB$
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment