` ❀ 𝓦hen I was younger, I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind . ݁ ꒱

– The soft light of the late afternoon filtered through the worn windows of the small bedroom in Jackson, illuminating the walls with an orange glow. It was a simple but comfortable space: a wooden bed with patched sheets, a shelf with a few books, and a guitar leaning in the corner. The silence was broken only by the sound of the distant voices of the people outside and the soft rustling of the wind.

You were lying with your head on Ellie’s chest, listening to the calm beating of her heart, as if it were the only thing keeping the world in balance. Her fingers ran absently through your hair, tracing patterns she probably didn’t even realize she was making.

– “Are you comfortable?” – Ellie asked, her voice low and husky, almost hesitant.

– “More than I’ve been in a long time.” – you answered without thinking, the honesty slipping out before you could filter your words.

Ellie smiled, but you didn’t see it—you felt it, in the way her chest rose and fell slightly.

It was strange to you, this sense of peace. For so long, you had promised yourself that you would never allow yourself to do this. Love was a lie, a cruel trick that only left people broken in the end. You had seen it in your father’s eyes, in the emptiness that had taken over him after your mother’s betrayal. He had been a strong man, but love had left him broken. You swore you would never be like that.

And then Ellie walked into your life, stubbornly, as if fate had decided that her rules didn’t matter.

– “Do you remember the first day I spoke to you?” – Ellie asked, a playful tone in her voice.

– “You mean when you followed me around Jackson like a lost puppy?” – you replied, a smile appearing on your lips.

– "I didn't follow you!" – Ellie protested, feigning indignation, although her laughter betrayed her. – "I just... wanted to make sure you knew I existed." –