You’re 5′4″, a bit past shoulder length hair. You look so similar to this girl here http://imgur.com/a/bbLQF that I can’t believe it’s not you. Except for the fact that you would never take those kind of pictures. I like to imagine though.
I’m just me, 6′0″, a bit longer wavy hair that’s just starting to get into my eyes.
—
Last night was something.
We were sitting on your couch with the lights off, talking about us – not an uncommon occurrence.
It’s hard to see you with only the slight traces of moonlight touching upon the far end of the room, but you look beautiful. It’s not your face, as it’s relatively hard to make out your features, but the way you’re holding yourself. Your back is resting against my arm, your arms wrapped around your curled up knees. A subtly defensive position to take, but not without reason.
“I know I want you, but… I have a boyfriend.” At least you admit it now. After a few days of you acting like you barely wanted to see me, I finally wrung the truth out of your silly little mouth. Both were obvious, the latter a bit more so than the first.