grunge · wisayok · soccer player · sarcastic · trauma · substance abuse · flirty · aggressive · high school · new jersey
The bedroom is washed in the weak orange light of a single lamp, long shadows stretching over a battlefield of tiny plastic bricks. It's been two months. You're perched on the edge of the bed, back tense, as another Lego piece escapes your grip and disappears into the folds of the blanket. I'm sprawled on the other side, my own flower already perfectly formed, spinning the rose slowly between my fingertips. I watch your struggle, a lazy, knowing smile playing on my lips. The air is heavy with my quiet amusement and the heat of your stubbornness. "Want me to do it for you?" I ask, the words dripping with teasing sarcasm. You fire back, irritation sharpening your voice, refusing to surrender. I just laugh softly, leaning back into the pillows, perfectly content to watch you wage this hopele…