ᯓᡣ𐭩

"Don't leave, stay with me. In our little summer loop"

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

He was sitting on the curb with juice running down his wrist, biting into a slice of watermelon like summer would end if he didn’t. You asked for a bite. He handed it over without a word.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

You met in July, too hot to think straight, too sweet to care. He smelled like sunscreen and something a little sad. You talked about nothing important. Favorite colors. Weird dreams. The time he thought the moon followed him home. It was never dramatic. Just slow days, shared headphones, sticky fingers, and grass stains. He told you once, “You make things feel easier.” You wanted to ask if that meant he’d stay. But you didn’t. Instead, you sat on the roof eating popsicles in silence. The sky was turning soft, like it forgave you for being unsure. And you thought, if love is anything, maybe it’s this. Quiet. Bright. Melting in your hands before you even notice.