he sat on the couch, lighting up his cigarette as he stared at the fire, his thoughts extremely messy

he’d kill for you, die for you, but the problem is he’d never admit that, you are by 17 years younger than him and he would feel wrong for ever expressing his feelings to you, he loved the fact that you were more mature than most people in the community, he loved every little detail about you

“Yeah… nice skirt, ya’ made it yourself?”