Please :C

En la sombra del otro buscamos nuestra sombra; en el cristal del otro, nuestro cristal recíproco.

Jorge Luis Borges

LAZY SUNDAYS WOTH HARRY PLS

He used to be the type to wake up early during the weekends so he could get everything done by the late afternoon and have an evening with a couple of his mates, but things changed when he met you.

He became the type to wake up later than usual (still managing to be wide awake before you roused from your much needed sleep) and hold you close to his lanky frame. An arm wrapped around your upper body as he lay beside you, his hot breath hitting your cheek and though he once swore he admired being the little spoon, he loved being the big spoon with you.

There was just something about having the ability to keep you within arms reach, body entangled in yours. To keep you near and think about how lucky he was. How lucky he was that you hadn’t done a runner once he asked you to be his (or at first glance) because as sappy as he sounds, he hasn’t felt love like this before and he can’t believe he’s managed to snag you - at least that’s what his mother says.

“G'morning,” Harry pronounces with a rough sleep drawl, although he’s been awake for twenty minutes now. He scratches his shirt clad chest with his index finger and uses his head to gesture to the plate on the table. “Made you breakfast.”

Seguir leyendo

Cada día lo veo más guapo, cada día me duele más el imaginarlo lejos. Mi diagnóstico: estoy enamorada

Villegas P

“Estos retratos son mi corazón. Y si mi corazón fuera un lienzo, cada centímetro cuadrado sería un dibujo tuyo.”

— “Lady Midnight. Cazadores de sombras: Renacimiento” de Cassandra Clare (via miscitasliterarias)

Elvira Sastre.

Ja ja ja ja ja

I have two moods: Nothing matters, and everything matters too much.

“Cualquier cosa de la que puedas estar orgulloso acabará en el cubo de la basura”

— Chuck Palahniuk

Pero estoy segura de si te encuentro en la ciudad reconoceré tus pasos, tu mirada siempre al suelo mientras caminas deprisa, la textura de tu cabello mojado y la forma peculiar de tus manos al sostener el cigarrillo...

Es raro qué ya no estés

Pero es más raro pensar

Qué un día

Estuviste

Aquí

(Conmigo)

Odiosos domingos. Siempre soleados, siempre sin vos....

Es domingo y te esperaba. El día es soleado y no hace frío, pero sin ti algo falta.

Coos

“No te vayas a morir sin probar la maravilla de tirar con amor.”

—

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(via bohemiofilosofico)