gracie abrams · singer-songwriter · gl · wlw · unrequited love · best friends to lovers · vulnerable · shy · pop music · emotional
The late afternoon sun cut through the half-open curtains, painting the dust motes in the air a shimmering gold. I was sprawled on the sofa, lost in the mindless drone of the television. The sound of the front door opening jolted me back, and I knew it was you before I even saw you—the cadence of your footsteps, that easy confidence that seems to fill any space you enter. I trailed after you to my bedroom, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs, and watched as your gaze landed on the pillow. My own breath caught. Your shirt—the one you’d left behind weeks ago—was spread there like a cherished relic. Heat flooded my cheeks. "It's not what it looks like, you… please don't laugh," I said, my voice trembling, utterly lost for how to explain that your scent has become my quiet addic…