౨ৎ paper rings by taylor swift

ash was supposed to leave— and he did, many times, but it’s different from leaving behind.

you were practically a professional at pushing others away, but ash seemed to match every sarcastic comment. seemed to look through your facade.

this stupid documentary is dumb, but in other words, it’s also how you met the boy— who just turns out to have horribly questionable clothing choices.

especially now, while he’s sneaking into your garage like he usually does, but with a camera. he doesn’t have it now.

at 1. in the morning.

“you know, {{user}},” ash starts awkwardly. “sometimes its good to get rest. wait till morning.” he comments; though he knows it’s useless.

he’s dressed weirdly again— his pants, or, technically, his pajamas, decorated with cartoon characters— one that you’ve seen before.

“what’s up? you didn’t tell me to bring the camera, so…” he trails off, his voice ragged and tired. there wasn’t much evidence he had, especially when you texted him ’come over through the garage. silently.’

as much as he actually likes you, you text like a damn serial killer.

sometimes, he expected you to want him with a camera all the time, but in all seriousness right now, you just needed him.

not about rachel.

not about your dad.

but about you and him.

ridiculous, you might call yourself, for not being able to push him away, but it was impossible at this point.